


Ghost on the Dance Floor

by siderealSandman



Series: Gods of Altearthia [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Completely Non-Compliant, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Godstuck, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts, Kids are Gods, Like Not Even Close Dude, PWP | Plot with Porn, Platonic Sex, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Side Pairings: Arasol, Side Pairings: KanVris, Side Pairings: Karezi, Trolls are Gods, Trolls on Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 74,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5225975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderealSandman/pseuds/siderealSandman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eridan Ampora, Prince of Hope and Altearthian God of Change, has successfully avoided Feferi Peixes (ex love of his life and first of his second degree murder victims) and the rest of his friends for more than six thousand years and might have gone on peacefully doing so. But a confession at Karkat's party leads to an argument that leads to a brawl that leads to Feferi showing up on his doorstep in Dublin looking for answers and a fresh start. </p><p>Things will never be the same between them but honestly, there's nowhere to go but up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Stitch Away From Making It

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Призрак на Танцевальной Площадке (Ghost on the Dance Floor by siderealSandman)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697482) by [Mr_Scapegrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Scapegrace/pseuds/Mr_Scapegrace)



A very very very old troll sits alone in a classroom. It just so happens that today is his birthday and though it was six thousand three hundred and eleven years ago he was given life, he is seriously considering whether or not to take a running dive out of the window at yet another half-hearted attempt at suicide that would probably not leave so much as a scratch on his stupidly immortal hide. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that this very very very old troll doesn’t look a day past twenty-five or so, so no one really knows just how old and tired he actually is.

**> >Be the very very very old troll.**

Your name is Eridan Ampora and right now you are enduring the most agonizing boredom you have ever experienced.

“Religious devotion in eighteenth century artwork signifies a departure from the more monolithic styles of antiquity, especially with regards to the Dual Monarchs. Where overwrought statues and tapestries saw popularity up to the end of the fourteenth century, it is no surprise that the sociopolitical turmoil in Europe and the Americas brought a renewed interest in religious iconography.”

**Art History 301.**

You have not been this bored since that time the wind died and your ship was becalmed in Cuba for three and a half months (at least then you could drink yourself to the bottom of a rum bottle to pass the time). You have not been this bored since Charlemagne’s coronation when the stupid fucking priest droned on and on and _on_ and _**on** _ about chivalry and valor and martial excellence and blah blah blah blah _**blah**_. You have not been this bored since spending eight and a half months in the Italian countryside, working as a fucking fishmonger until Caligula got bumped off by his guards. Twenty minutes into class and you already want to beat your head against the wall until you see violet on it. (You might be able to call it performance art and get away with it; you’re almost tempted to try.)

Truth be told, there were about six million things you would rather be doing on the morning of your six thousand three hundred and eleventh wriggling day. You left your “kismesis” lying half naked in the warm confines of your bed, clutching your pillow and mumbling sleepily as you prepared to set out into the cold Dublin morning. You really should have called in sick and spent the morning pretending to hate Nepeta’s guts while she left fresh clawmarks on your back. You could be out celebrating with friends but you never celebrated the past six thousand two hundred and ninety five birthdays so you’re not tempted to start now. Besides, you have few friends to speak of and none besides Nepeta and Karkat from the old group that suddenly popped back into existence two years ago as if the last six thousand years was a short nap (to them it probably was).

You would rather be doing any number of things on the morning of your six thousand three hundred and eleventh wriggling day but you had no one to do them with. Your fault really but there it is. You have nothing better to do than listen to the same lecture you’ve heard a thousand fucking times before. In fact, you’ve heard the exact same fucking lecture fifty years before when the ashen haired human professor was just a young doctoral candidate filling in for their teacher on a sick day. If you concentrate hard enough, the wrinkles and white hair melt away and you see the same raven haired beauty that first tempted you into the class at the University College Dublin so many years ago. The first lecture bleeds into the current lecture as you doubt the septuagenarian recognizes you as the same young man who stayed behind to ask his TA about the importance of devotional artwork to revolutionaries in the US, France, and Russia.

He never needed to know why you were so interested in the Prince of Hope.

**> >Eridan: Observe the worst fucking painting in the universe.**

The slide changes as Professor Bates fumbles with the laptop in front of him. You almost feel a pang of pity for him but the projector displays what has consistently been the worst thing about these stupid fucking classes. You fail to suppress a groan of disappointment as the art major next to you looks at you like you just spat in her grandmother’s face. Fuck that overachieving teacher’s pet. She’s been giving you the stink eye ever since you insinuated that Salvador Dali was a washed up, drug addled hack and you are dimly aware of her mounting disgust as you start to mouth the words to the lecture you’ve heard at least fifteen times before.

“Blade of Hope" is one of the most iconic examples of revisionist devotional work as interpreted by the sociopolitical lens of the time. The focal point of the piece is the Prince of Hope descending from on high wreathed in an aura of light on wings of power as George Washington kneels before him. The two pristine figures are juxtaposed against the brutal, primal white backdrop of Valley Forge where numerous soldiers suffer and die. The ground beneath Washington’s feet melts and we see the grass of new spring come forth as the Lightbringer bequeaths unto Washington a burning sword symbolizing the eternal flame of hope that carried the Continental Army through a dire winter.”

The image lingers on the screen for a moment as the class around you continues to take notes. It’s a beautiful painting so of course you fucking hate it with the intensity of a hot burning sun; not because it's poorly done but because it's so offensively inaccurate it makes your skin prickle. Because you _were_ at Valley Forge but you weren’t some kind of pasty faced human like the Prince in the portrait was. You didn’t descend on high so much as you slogged through twenty miles of bitterly cold slush to deliver blankets to the dumb assholes who were freezing to death in the countryside. And you didn’t remember George Washington kneeling so much as he called you an “ashy Loyalist spy” and had you put in stocks for three weeks until you escaped.

Fuck that guy; you should have doubled back and knocked the dentures out of his ungrateful mouth when you had the chance. Try being the first fucking president now you toothless, gaping idiot. At least you got to push Thomas Jefferson down a flight of stairs before you left-

**> >Eridan: Observe the actual worst painting in the universe. **

Oh... _no._

The slide projector shifts again, portraying a much darker scene as your skin starts to prickle for an entirely different reason. When did he start he start teaching this painting too? The last fourteen times you took the class you immediately segued into Botticelli's "Dance of Viridian and Violet" with the accompanying overture by Handel. Your hands grip your desk so tightly you're worried it will break, eyes staring into the mop of black hair in front of you. You want to focus your attention on anything but the painting on the projector because you already know if you do, you're not going to heave up the eggs and sausage you had for breakfast.

“King Street Rage," by contrast, was painted in response to the Incident on King Street or the Boston Massacre as it is known in the States."

**> >Eridan: Look up. **

_No,_ fuck that!

Don't look up, don't listen to what Bates is saying. Just tune him out; think of anything else.

**> >Eridan: Think about Boston. **

You absolutely refuse; not now. Not today. 

Think of the cold, grey skies outside, think of a nice cup of warm tea, think of fucking Nepeta into the mattress while she bites your shoulder. Just don't think about the painting.

Don't think about Boston.

"Commissioned by the British Crown at the time, it depicts an orgy of violence and destruction. You see the Bard of Rage looming in the background, fingers arched over the rioting colonists as they rampage through the streets in an orgy of wanton violence...Mr. Poram are you paying attention?”

**> >Eridan: Pay attention.  
**

Shit that's the name you gave when you enrolled again, isn't it? Is Bates talking to you?

You look up, staring directly at the professor as he shoots you a disapproving glare. Yeah, look at him, focus on that. Whatever you do, don't fuck up and look at the projector.

**> >Eridan: Fuck up and look at the projector. **

Shit. 

You glance up at the screen, lip curling back a little as you take in the godawful monstrosity of artwork before you.

Of course Makara was still a troll. Grey skin and horns couldn’t be a savior of America but a rampaging, brutish looking monster could be their destruction. You despise this painting for entirely different reasons. You hate it because it's ugly, because it's obscene, because it's fucking _English_ , because his _eyes_ seem to follow you in particular. Beady, yellow little eyes taunting you from the frame as people all around him lose their fucking minds. Eyes that you have tried to forget by drinking a small fortune in alcohol. Eyes that say “ _Look at this shit, my brother. Look at what I can make these squishy motherfuckers to do each other. Isn't it fucking miraculous?!”_

God, damnit you can smell his rancid fucking stench after all these years, yellow teeth bared in that hideous grimace as an orgy of bloodshed goes on around you. Smoke and screaming fill the air as a thousand angry bodies press around you and he’s laughing like it’s a big fucking joke. Like these people are now somehow _enlightened_ by slaughtering each other with their bare hands. _  
_

** >>Eridan: Shoot the fucking clown.   
**

That's a good idea. Your hand goes to your waist, fumbling around for your pistol. You need to be fast but you haven't had such a good shot at him in years. This will work; the scars on your face are proof you can fucking hurt him. All it will take is one perfect shot. You have to fight your way through the crowd, ignoring the cries of pain and confusion around you as you elbow your way to the front of the mob. Lobsters are trying to maintain order; someone falls beside you but he's got his arms spread, teeth wide, just  _daring_ you to end him. And you want to; you don't care if it's his fucking Rage powers fucking with your brain. You want to see him spilling his brains all over the street. You want to watch the life go out of his eyes. He deserves it; he can't survive. You just need to get your pistol and

**> >What pistol?  **

“Mr. Poram?”

**> >Eridan: Come back to reality.**

You are not in Boston anymore. You are in Dublin in a classroom and standing up at the front of the classroom like a fucking idiot as your teacher and your classmates all crane their necks to look at you. There’s no pistol in your belt because you haven’t gone around armed since the end of the Terror.

You swear to god that Makara is laughing at you from the frame.

**> >Eridan: Invent Excuse.**

“Stomach,” You blurt out, grabbing the beige pea coat and purple and blue scarf from the back of your chair as you head for the door, not bothering to meet your TA’s eyes as you shove the door open, stepping into the empty hallway with a deep breath.

Your hand reaches out to steady yourself on the walls, breathing deeply as you press your scarf into your nose and mouth, inhaling a familiar smell until your heart stops thundering in your chest.

Dublin. You're in Dublin. You're safe...you're home.

Of all the fucking days to take a trip down memory lane, it had to be your fucking wriggling day.

* * *

**> >Eridan: Answer your phone.**

_“Happy Wriggling Day, Mr. Misery-guts.”_

At least someone had remembered to call you.

“ _Dr_. Misery-guts thank you very much,” You say, taking a sip from your cardboard coffee cup as you wind your way through the streets towards your flat. School wasn’t in the cards for you today and as someone who went essentially as a hobby, you didn’t feel particularly terrible about missing a class here or there. You had passed university hundreds of times under various pseudonyms and now went just for something to do with your days. You have to kill time somehow and it beats the shit out of some of the other things you've done over the years to make the days go by a little easier. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, Kar, but your telephone etiquette is a little on the lackin’ side.”

_“You’re breaking my heart, Dr. Dolphin-Dong.”_

“Oh, wonderful, I’m glad that nickname is stickin’.”

_“Blame Harley for that.”_

“I do,” You say, rolling your eyes at the mention of your kismesis’ girlfriend. “Did you get me anythin' this year?”

_“Yeah I got a nice monogrammed kilt you can wear around town and fit in with the rest of the weird English troll-people.”_

“Kilts are _Scottish_ and I live in _Ireland_.”

_“England, Ireland, same fucking difference.”_

“If you ever decide to come to Dublin, _please_ do not go around sayin’ shit like that,” You sigh as a fond smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. You missed Karkat quite a bit and besides Nepeta he was the only other member of the SGRUB session to make any kind of contact with you. It was strange to go nearly sixty-five hundred years without seeing someone and pick up where you left off without so much as a hitch. To be honest you expected more of a gap or at least some difficulty relating to a friend who was now (effectively) six millennia younger than you were and maybe you've kept him at a distance because you're worried that once you meet, you'll remember just how old you fucking are.

You should be grateful that there’s at least one person who doesn’t completely loathe you. You haven’t heard from Kan or Sol or…or anyone else but you can venture a guess as to how they feel about you. Not that you blame them any.

_“Yeah problem is I couldn’t ship it to Belfast-“_

“Dublin.”

_“-from Phoenix without paying out the asshole for it so you’re going to have to show your face on Harley’s island if you want it.”_

“We’ve stooped to bribery now, have we?” You sigh, crumpling your empty coffee cup and tossing it in a trash can as you pass. “Couldn’t convince me to come to your beach campin’ trip so you decided to hold my tartan skirt hostage?”

_“No fucking shame…look, Eridan, I know you have some misgivings about meeting up with everyone again-“_

“Pretty good misgivings, I would say,” You chuckle bitterly. “I don’t think anyone wants to sit around and sing Kumbaya with the guy who perforated two of them and nearly doomed their race to extinction.”

_“Your race too asshole; you’re one of the only twelve Alternian trolls left.”_

You lived thirteen years of your life on Alternia and the rest of your miserable existence with the SGRUB team on a meteor. You feel like telling Karkat that you feel more at home on a planet you’ve walked for the past six millennia than you ever did on Alternia but you don’t really feel like having this conversation with him right now.

“Be that as it may, nothin’ makes a dinner party more awkward than when you people who killed each other in attendance. You think Kan is gonna be cool with this? Or Sol for that matter?”

_“Sollux is not and has never been anything resembling cool but he doesn’t get to decide who I invite to my rainbow fucking friendship picnic! Shit, Vriska came last year and it was kind of weird but everyone got the fuck over it. My thing; my rules. And I want all available SGRUB deities on deck to spend something resembling quality time together.”_

“You have a funny definition of quality time, Kar.”

_“Real fucking funny, I know. Look, just…think about it, okay? Say the word and we can have tall dark and furry zap you over here for a heartbeat.”_

“I’ll think about it,” You lie, sliding up to the front door of your flat. “Thanks for the call, Kar.”

_“You can thank me by showing up at my goddamn shindig for once you-“_

_Click._

You sigh, shaking your head as you fumble around for your keys, pushing the door open and taking a few steps into the apartment before the overwhelming quiet slammed into him like a brick wall. Normally, whenever Nepeta was over, you would come home to the sound of some inane television program or the maddening sound of Nepeta obsessively editing her wildlife footage before sending them off to her editors. But when you enter the house there is only silence as a small part of you know what’s going to happen next.

“Guess we’re doin’ this _now_ ,” You mutter, hanging up your scarf and entering the house to find Nepeta perched on the arm of a couch, looking up at you with an apprehensive look in her eye.

**> >Eridan: Break up with your kismesis.**

* * *

**> >Eridan: Wave goodbye.**

Nepeta vanishes in a flash of green light as Harley uses her space powers to whisk her away and just like that the biggest sham of a kismesitude ends with less of a bang and more of a whimper.

You knew it wasn’t going to last from the moment it started; you were so badly out of blackrom practice and truth be told Nepeta was one of the least hateful people you knew. You knew that when you kissed her for the first time, you knew that when you pressed her up against the wall of your bedroom for the first time, you knew that when you woke up to her scratched to hell and so wonderfully sore for the first time.

You knew it, she knew it, and you both knew there was never any real hatred between the two of you. You went through the motions but your caliginous flirtation was never anything more than playful bickering that stopped just short of being flushed.Basically, you were glorified fuck buddies but truth be told you were fine with that. It had been centuries since your last dalliance and it was refreshing to wake up to something other than an empty bed for a little while.

But you knew it wasn’t going to last from the moment you started.

To be honest you're surprised it lasted this long. When you all won the game, you all stood on equal footing. Everybody was the same age, had the same experiences, knew each other more or less (for better and for worse). You all forged this weird mishmash world in the crucible of Skaia. You created a new universe from the ashes of two old ones and took your place as the rightful gods of it to be worshiped and obeyed by the mortal populace. You created everything the light touched and on the seventh day, you all decided to rest until the world was something like you remembered it (because no one wanted to go through life before the invention of the toilet and the bubonic plague again). Everyone but you entered stasis; everyone but you and _him_ got to sleep away most of the world's history.

They got to come back with everything more or less as they left it; you took the long path because part of you _knew_ that leaving _him_ running around would ensure that the rest of them woke up to ash and fire after six thousand years of unchecked subjuggalation.

No one made you stay but yourself but in the end, someone had to.

Everyone is over six thousand years old but only you know it. Only you sort of look it. You pass your reflection in the mirror in the hallway and see a young man's skin with an old man's eyes staring back at you. You look nothing like Nepeta who's mind and body are all in step with one another. She never had to live through all the cascading decades blurring together. She never saw Rome rise, never laid bricks that built the Great Wall, never suffered in Valley Forge, never witnessed that _fucking clown painting entire cities a magnificent hue of carnage, never saw her husbands, her wives, her friends destroyed as part of a never ending dance between you and that motherfucking_

**> >Eridan: Drink like a dying fish.**

No more fucking flashbacks. Not today. Not now.

You shake your head and make for the liquor cabinet, snagging a bottle of black rum and a glass from the end table as you nudge the door to your study open. Your eyes glaze over the collection of swords, trinkets, and memorabilia hanging off the walls, some of which were older than the street you live on as you flop into the thick leather armchair against the wall. The only sounds filling the flat are the sounds of black liquor glugging into your glass and the faint crackle of fire in the fireplace. You take a long drink with a small wince, fully intending on getting absolutely shitfaced as you’ve done every year on your wriggling day since the people of this planet invented alcohol when a blinking light on your phone on the desk catches your attention. You glare at it for a moment, swirling the rum around in your glass as you consider ignoring it and pouring yourself another glass and turning in early.

**> >Eridan: Pick up the phone.**

You would rather not.

**> >Eridan: Pick up the phone.**

Honestly, you would rather spend the next couple hours heckling the "experts" on the history channel

**> >Eridan: _Pick up the phone._**

Honestly, you would rather fire up the laptop and see if there were any new developments in the area of deep sea violet blood pornography.

**> >Eridan: Stop being such a pervert and pick up the phone.**

Whoa, whoa, okay, no need to get personal.

You grab your phone, swiping it and bringing up the Trollian client as a small string of messages from Karkat blink up at you. Your lips twitch at the bright, candy red text. Thirteen year old Eridan might have raised an eyebrow at the change but who cares about that kid's shitty opinion?

CG: PICK UP  
CG: TEREZI TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENED WITH NEPETA AND I NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVEN’T GONE AND DONE ANYTHING STUPID  
CG: AS YOU ARE WONT TO DO IF MEMORY SERVES ME CORRECTLY  
CG: PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP PICK UP  
CG: THAT'S IT I'M CALLING HARLEY  
CG: YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF  
CG: I MEAN IT

You want to sigh in irritation but to be honest, it feels nice to have someone seriously concerned about your well being so you figure you owe him a reply if only to assure him that you're not crying in the shower and listening to some kind of wretched emo music...though now that you think about it, the last breakup he was present for ended about as badly as any breakup could have so maybe he's not so off base with his accusations.

CA: simmer, kar, i’m just fine  
CA: call off the search party  
CG: FINALLY  
CG: I WAS ABOUT TO CALL THE SEARCH DOGS TO MAKE SURE YOU WEREN'T DANGLING FROM THE RAFTERS  
CA: your faith in my copin skills is a nevverending source of encouragement  
CG: SHIT MAN CAN YOU BLAME ME  
CG: YOUR LAST BREAKUP DIDN’T END ALL THAT WELL  
CA: you wweren’t around for my last fourteen or so breakups  
CA: unless you seriously think i spent the last six thousand years livvin like a monk in a cloister  
CG: OH  
CG: RIGHT  
CG: MY BAD  
CG: SERIOUSLY THOUGH DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE?  
CA: i'm not exactly weepin in my liquor  
CA: nevver was much of a blackrom to be honest  
CA: wwe both kneww it  
CA: wwasn’t that much hatred betwween us to begin with so  
CG: WAIT YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU DATED SOMEONE FOR EIGHT MONTHS THAT YOU DIDN’T HATE  
CG: WHY  
CA: you wwant the candid answwer or the palatable one?  
CG: PLEASE BE CANDID  
CA: because quite frankly she’s absolutely amazin in bed  
CG: OH  
CA: proper little minx  
CG: YEAH I HEAR YOU  
CA: wwe had sex like you wwouldn’t believe, kar  
CG: I GET THE MESSAGE  
CA: ruined all my furniture; all of it  
CG: ERIDAN  
CA: did it up against the wwall  
CG: ERIDAN STOP  
CA: in the car in a church parkin lot  
CG: PLEASE BE LESS CANDID  
CA: you’re some kinda fool for not givvin her a chance wwhen she wwas into you because she really is the goddess of romantic love  
CA: wwink wwink  
CG: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY STOP  
CA: she does this thing with her tongue wwhere  
CG: LALALALALALALALALA CAN’T FUCKIING HEAR YOU  
CA: next time don’t tell me to be candid if you don't mean it  
CG: POINT TAKEN  
CG: WAIT ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?  
CA: oh no neps a fuckin animal in the sack  
CA: pun intended  
CA: but i’m also not not fuckin with you  
CG: GOD DAMNIT  
CG: DID YOU GROW A SENSE OF HUMOR OR SOMETHING?  
CA: or somefin  
CG: NO NOT WITH THE FUCKING FISH PUNS  
CG: FEFERI JUST GOT OFF THAT SHIT I DON’T NEED YOU STARTING ON ME  
CA: you’re soundin a bit  
CG: DON'T  
CA: crabby kar  
CG: SERIOUSLY FUCK YOURSELF  
CA: i wwas about to wwhen you called and interrupted my evvenin nightcap. was gonna see if there was another installment in the acclaimed Twenty Thousand Orgasms Under the Sea saga  
CA: it's a beautiful story of one man's lovve for animatronic squids  
CG: T  
CG: M  
CG: I  
CA: don't evven hate; it's a thoughtful satire piece  
CG: I AM SO GOING TO SMACK YOU ACROSS THE GODDAMN FACE WHEN I SEE YOU NEXT  
CG: WHICH IS HOPEFULLY NEXT WEEK  
CG: DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE AND DRAG YOU TO ISLA HARLEY BY MYSELF  
CA: oh no don't come to my house and get me  
CA: anyfin but that kar, please  
CA: quick question; wwhere do i livve again?  
CG: ...  
CG: DON'T TELL ME  
CG: IT'S THE ONE WITH THE CANALS WHERE ALL THE WEED IS LEGAL, RIGHT?  
CA: psh i fuckin wwish  
CG: NOT THE POINT  
CG: COME ON I HAVE NOT SEEN YOU FACE TO FACE FOR NEARLY TWO YEARS  
CA: more like three thousand times that but  
CG: DO ME THIS ONE SOLID AND SHOW YOUR UGLY MUG  
CG: MAKE ME HAPPY  
CA: okay  
CG: PLEASE I’M  
CG: WAIT  
CG: ARE YOU SERIOUS  
CA: one hundred percent searious  
CG: DON'T EVEN RIGHT NOW  
CG: SERIOUSLY HAS THAT INKY HUMAN SWILL ROTTED YOUR BRAIN?  
CG: WHY THE SUDDEN 180?  
CA: might be the rum talkin but it’s either go and get my gills torn off by sol or spend the next wweek goin to art history class like a chump  
CA: oddly enough evvisceration is the more appealin option currently  
CG: OH PLEASE YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE WE’RE GOING TO EXECUTE YOU OR SOMETHING  
CA: removve the chainsawws from the island before kan gets there please and thank you  
CG: DRAMA QUEEN  
CA: says the guy who's nevver been sawwed in half with a fuckin chainsaww before  
CG: DRAMA QUEEN  
CG: GOOD TO KNOW THAT HASN'T CHANGED  
CG: OKAY I GOT YOU TO SAY IT NO BACKING OUT  
CG: HARLEY WILL BE BY TO PICK YOU UP NEXT WEEK  
CG: BY FORCE IF NEED BE  
CA: i’m shakin in my boots  
CG: YOU SHOULD BE  
CA: havven't been this scared since the marquis du sade invited me to the country to go "horseback ridin"  
CG: WHO?   
CA: you want me to be candid or you wwant the palatable answwer?  
CG: NEVER MIND  
CG: ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING WRIGGLING DAY  
CG: TRY NOT TO GET COMPLETELY PLASTERED  
CA: no promises, kar

* * *

**> >Eridan: Brood**

Finally something you're good at.

You toss your phone down, staring into the fire for a moment before rising from your chair with a small grimace, heading upstairs to check out what kind of summer wardrobe you have to play with. One of the reasons you've stayed so long in Dublin is because you can comfortably walk around in trenchcoats, scarves, and turtlenecks well into summer and not look like a fucking asshat. Though even if you didn't show up to Isla Harley in your usual fare, you're probably going to still look like a fucking asshat. You wonder if there are any Hallmark "Sorry I Murdered You Before The Dawn of the World" cards and if it would be in bad taste to bring wine (they're probably still on that Faygo shit that makes your stomach turn for more reasons than just the sugar content).

Part of you wonders if it's too late to back out but you suppose you have put this off for too long.

Your name is Eridan Ampora and today you turned 6,311. In one week, you will be face to face with the people you murdered nearly six thousand years ago, one of which was the woman you thought was the love of your life. You don't know what you're going to do or how you're going to act but you know one thing for certain.

You definitely are going to need more rum for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold my attempts to salvage my garbage OTP from the depths of the ocean. 
> 
>  
> 
> If Eridan seems a little out of character here that's...because he is. You'll see why a little later
> 
> For those of you joining in from Human Quadrants, welcome back! For those just joining us, it might behoove you to read Chapter 2 of Human Quadrants for some more worldbuilding info. The gist of it is as follows:
> 
> After winning the game, the alpha and beta timelines are split into different universe and the Beta players are tasked with creating a new universe with themselves as the new masters of creation. After a long series of debates and deliberations, they wish for the new world to be an amalgam of their old worlds with trolls and humans existing side by side from the dawn of creation. 
> 
> The sixteen new gods stayed with their creation for some time, mostly so Karkat could use the cults that had sprang up around their godhoods to enact a kind of basic social order that would ensure their pet project didn’t devolve into a clusterfuck of murder and prejudice like the last two worlds. After making sure the new Altearthians were set with how to farm and not be eaten by giant crabs, most of the gods entered a kind of hibernation and were flung forward in time to the present day. This was largely so they didn’t go insane micromanaging every aspect of human and troll life as some (Feferi, Karkat, Equius, Rose) seemed to want to do. Gamzee disappeared before they could enter hibernation and Eridan quietly left the night before they were to enter the time warp so neither entered the sleep that carried them to the modern day. 
> 
> The gods don’t remember their time on Altearthia before the modern day as anything other than dreams they don’t quite understand. Eridan resurfaced when everyone snapped back into time but Gamzee remained unaccounted for (for better and for worse). 
> 
> It is now six thousand and sixteen years after the universe was reset and the Beta Gods act much like normal people would. They go to school, experiment with relationships, and generally try to figure out where they fit into a world they created. The only difference is that they’re fabulously wealthy nigh invincible immortals who have eternity to look forward to provided some asshole teenagers don’t go and reset the universe again.


	2. A Scar Away From Falling Apart

_You are standing on a beach, watching one by one as the pods containing your sleeping comrades disappear in a flash of light, there one second gone the next. Two remain open and completely empty, taunting you as the enormity of your choice sinks in._

_You turn around to see a faceless mass of people and trolls clad in animal hides and rags, all looking up at you in awe. You could rule them; one word from you and they could give you everything you could want. Pelts, dead deer, husbands, wives; the sum total of trolls and humanity stand before you, looking at you with such hope in their eyes it makes you ill._

_You could destroy them all here and now. All of Fef and Kan’s hard work gone in a wave of your wand. They’re so small; so insignificant. None of them will live to see a hundred years; none of them will do anything important other than fucking, procreating, and dying so the next generation can do slightly better than their miserable parents. How many hundreds if not thousands of years do you have to wait before you can even speak to one without them falling to their knees, eyes brimming with hopeful tears?_

_You are one of two gods walking the earth and they all turn to you for advice; for direction. As though you stayed for any reason other than the fact that you were so horribly sick with yourself you can’t imagine sleeping peacefully, even with both time gods at work putting you to sleep. Your friends would all wake in six thousand years or so to a world that was like the one they left; rich, powerful, and safe._

_That was their reward; one you decided you didn’t deserve._

_They wouldn’t look at you so fondly if they knew what you had done to get here. They wouldn’t speak so fucking fondly of the Prince of Hope if they knew you had doomed your race to extinction. They would view your staying so happily; they wouldn’t see this as some noble fucking sacrifice born out of love for mortals._

_You should tell them…you really should but, coward that you are, you can’t. And you take some small bitter pleasure in watching the hope leave their eyes when you turn your back on them and start walking into the sea. They cry after you, begging you not to go in some mongrel tongue that would one day mutate into something comprehensible. You don’t stop; you don’t turn around until the water passes over your eyes and you stare into the dark, blue ocean wondering where to go next._

_You don’t know what to do but you sure as fuck don’t want to talk to anyone anytime soon…_

* * *

_You spend the next thousand years conducting experiments on the lengths of your immortality._

_That’s what you’re going to tell people if they ask why you flung yourself off a cliff, broke countless stone knives against your skin trying to stab yourself, taunted and fought dangerous animals who couldn’t scratch your hide, or swallowed enough toxic fruit to kill a herd of hoofbeasts._

_It was purely a science experiment; nothing more._

_But it proved to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was nothing you could do to yourself that would cause any lasting harm. You starved yourself for a year or so but all that really did was make you ravenously hungry and consume an entire orchard of apples in one sitting. You tried going without water for three months but even then you just got dry-throated and parched. You suffered the side effects of drinking an entire keg of moonshine (including a hangover that taught you the meaning of the word suicidal) but you don’t die. Fire hurts but doesn’t burn you. Lightning hits you but all you get is a little tingly. You rig a mountain of boulders to fall on your body and one by one they shatter against you like you’re made of fucking metal._

_It’s not until you know you can’t die that you start to realize that you might actually want to._

* * *

  _You don’t talk to anyone for nearly two thousand years._

_You weave in and out of the world, flying high over the countryside to see little mud huts turn into sturdier shacks and the people of the world disperse as per Karkat’s command. Some people see you; most people don’t. Sometimes you throw on a disguise and walk among them but nothing ever makes you stay for very long._

_Gamzee is nowhere to be found. You’ve never really spoken to the guy but at this point, maybe it’s time to try. It beats the endless fucking tedium of watching farmers in hides and grass skirts hoot and holler as they chase deer through the forests. Anything would beat having no one to talk to but the mud-caked savages that only Fef could love. You thought you understood what loneliness meant back on the meteor but it isn’t until you have literally no one that you realize how fucking lucky you were back then. You don’t miss your hive until you’re shacking up in caves and sleeping on mountaintops._

_Even a thousand years after nearly dooming your race to extinction, you continue to discover new and exciting depths to your idiocy when you were six sweeps old._

* * *

  _Two thousand, five hundred years of solitude ends when you see a young troll in the clutches of a menacing crab lusus, fighting for all he’s worth._

_He’s a pissblood of course. Even after Karkat and Feferi leveled the playing field, making each caste as long lived as the other, he still seems so small in the gigantic white monstrosity’s claws, magical eye beams barely registering on the monster’s hide. Why didn’t he go out with a weapon? Did he really think Sollux’s shitty psionics would be enough to seriously handle anything stronger than a weak shot of schnapps that hadn’t been invented yet?_

_You are honestly amazed these people have the gall to call themselves trolls._

_You could have passed him by, completely ignoring the little shit and leaving him to his fate. You watch, hidden by your belief in your own invisibility, as the little mustard stain claws, fights, bites, scratches, and kicks at the thing even thought._

_He doesn’t stand a fucking chance and he’s too dumb to know it._

_You don’t know why but your wand is in your hand, leveled at the crab. You’re in an unusually charitable mood so you might as well give him the barest hint of a leg up. It takes a small thrum of power and you’re cloaked, swirling, and winged in your God Tier attire. You take careful aim, firing a blast of white energy at the crab’s arms. They sever with a screech as the troll falls into the river. You’re about to blast the crab away but the little goldie shit manages to get one of the severed claws up, swings it in a wide arc and smashes it into the crab’s head in a shower of gore as the creature falls screaming into the river._

_You’re honestly a little dumbstruck and mildly impressed. For the first time in forever, you are stupefied long enough for the yellow blood to turn around, eyes going wide as saucers as they fall on your fully fledged God Tier form._

_You realize two things simultaneously._

_1) There is a small swathe of guards dead in the river next to the crab._

_2) There is a circle of gold on the goldblood’s crown and a thick, heavy looking golden necklace around his neck._

_Evidently, the little bastard is some kind of hot shot._

_He is about to say something when a small cloud of dust appears up the road. He turns to see more guards tearing up the road after him. You believe you are invisible again and you are gone, gliding away as your heart hammers in your ears._

_Two thousand years and you have finally done something halfway worthwhile with your time...and it scares the hell out of you.  
_

* * *

  _His name is Rimush and evidently he’s a fucking prince._

_A pissblooded fucking prince…you thought you had seen fucking everything this takes the fucking cake._

_The Temple to the Prince of Hope in Akkad just up the river is bedecked in fresh flowers, altars groaning under offerings of breads, meats, and jewelry and that’s when you realize that the kid you pulled out of the river is the son of the local king and he’s been basically living in the temple to the Prince of Hope for the last three weeks. His father is worried that his heir is going to become a fucking priest or something but for some reason he’s not rushing in to drag his son out. Guards surround the temple and the prince entertains a slew of courtiers begging him to return to the palace but he is evidently deaf to their pleas. His father even consecrated his royal palace in honor of the Prince of Hope, partly as a means to draw his son back into the fold.  
_

_He doesn’t want to be disturbed in his prayer but he’s about to be disturbed like he’s never been before. You spent the last week or so trying **not** to square things away with the first mortal to gaze upon your face in over two thousand years. Finally you decide to reassert your divine dignity; just a quick pop into the temple and you'll be gone by morning once you've sorted the little shit out.  
_

_You move past the guards unseen, godhood rustling past them like a breeze as you steal into the temple (sneaking into your own temple like a thief; this little punk has some balls locking you out) passing rows of flowers and food offerings. You consider taking some of it as you go out (it’s for you, right?) but the sight of the young prince slumped against the altar at the head of the church in front of the chapel catches your eye. He’s mumbling to himself (or praying to you one of the two) as you come up behind him, decloaking in a flourish of robes and wings. His sword is out of his sheathe at the sound of a disturbance behind him and it strikes the side of your head, shattering against your skin without leaving so much as a blemish. What it does do is nearly knock you off your feet as your grand reveal is completely and utterly foiled because of a jumpy prince's sword arm.  
_

_Of course, of all the gods, you **would** be the only one to be attacked in your own temple.  
_

* * *

_You don’t really know why you stay after that._

_Maybe you're bored, maybe you want to take a break for a while, maybe it’s because he managed to impress you long enough for you to stay in one place to see if he manages to pull anything else impressive off. For the most part, he doesn’t; he returns to court with a newfound “tutor” and stays in the background while his father rules the land surrounding the Tigris and the Euphrates. He’s got spunk in spades but no acumen or political savvy. At least he’s smart enough to keep your identity a secret; tongues are wagging enough about your interactions without the little yellowblood wagging his as well._

_He’s infuriatingly irreverent on top of all that. He wants to know if the Mage of Doom is a male or female since priests seem to be divided on the issue (you’re tempted to rewrite history a bit but you remain evasive on the matter; Sol has enough reason to want you dead). Such an asshole too; asks why humans and trolls were made different and why they were all so short lived (you suggest that he blame Karkat for that and try harder not to die). You really don’t know why you stay. You expect you’ll be gone tomorrow, you say to yourself, day after day as you continue to spend time as his glorified chauffeur. You don't really have anything better to do with your time anyway so bumming around Mesopotamia sounds as good of an idea as any._

_And it helps to be in royal company again even if it's not the royal company you're used to. No more buying bread and water from goat merchants on the thoroughfare; now you're drinking warm wine and eating fresh succulent fruits while Rimush gets tutored in politics and history. You enjoy carved, roasted meats as you try not to scoff derisively at the priest who comes to teach him of the gods. You get off on asking the priest more and more complicated questions and Rimush tries not to burst into a fit of giggles at the look on the old fool's face when you say that the gods are alien deities who came from other stars. It helps lighten the mood somewhat but you'll grow bored of it eventually.  
_

_It’s not forever, you say and you expect you’ll be gone tomorrow._

* * *

  _You spent so much time comparing him to Sollux in the beginning that you made yourself blind to the fact that the young man couldn't be further from Sollux if he tried._

_Shitty psionic abilities aside, he's a good head taller than Sollux was, broad shouldered and sharp eyed. He likes swordfighting (you have to try your absolute hardest not to be completely humiliated by him in the practice ring), he likes strategy games (something you enjoy whipping him at), he likes riding his hoofbeasts fast across the rocky sandy hills like an idiot.  
_

_He's got a nobility to him as well that you didn't notice; princely without being pompous or overbearing. He steps in to settle disputes in the market place but doesn't coddle the townspeople like they're fucking children (wrigglers). Fef wouldn't like him that much and he would never tolerate any scoldings about how he could be doing more to make sure the folks in town didn't stub their toes on the way out of the front door.  
_

_He would be too ambitious for her liking; you sit on the walls of the city, looking out over the sands as he tells you what he would do if he could expand his father's territories. The farms he would put here, the towers he would put there, the towns and cities that would stretch across the land all bearing his insignia. Droll, to be sure, but you doubt he has the stomach for conquest. He's made of bendier stuff but you nod and offer your insight here and there. You see such a glimmer of hope in his eye that it makes you squirm just a little and you resolve to be out of the town by tomorrow._

* * *

  _You make the mistake of telling him you've never been to a festival in your honor._

_So of course it's cloaks and disguises for everyone as he bustles you off to an obnoxiously loud and exceedingly garish public festival celebrating Hope in all its forms. Beige and purple banners flap in the breeze bearing your symbol, the marketplace is home to a slew of acrobats and jugglers and freakshows of all kinds. There's even a fucking parade that leads to the temple you first met this persistent little goldblood in and a sermon that causes you physical pain. The liar, the charlatan, tells of how the Prince of Hope so **nobly** chose to remain on earth while his holy brethren rose to the heavens. He lies to them, tells them that the world's greatest champion of Hope remained behind to remind His people that there will always be hope for another day. _

_It would be funny if it wasn't so depressingly nauseating that you had to get back to the palace as soon as possible._

_Rimush finds you in your chambers, pouting at the bottom of the bottle of wine. You are so glad he doesn't try and smooth your hair; he just glares at you as if he's waiting for an explanation for your behavior._

_He wouldn't understand; you tell him anyway._

_For the first time, you tell the truth. You tell this poor, simple little princeling about the Game, the reward, everything. It's hard to convey certain concepts in a language that has no word for "moirail" but you tell him that before the rebirth of the universe, you killed the Witch of Life, you killed the Slyph of Space. You lost hope and destroyed it wherever you found it. The Prince of Hope was Hope's mortal enemy; the destroyer of Hope and not the one who destroyed with Hope. You stayed behind because you were too fucking ashamed of yourself to sleep with the rest of them. How could you when you're the antithesis of anything and everything hopeful? They should be cursing you that you decided to stay and plague the world with your wretched selfishness._

_You don't notice that Rimush is sitting on the bed next to you, eyebrows set in a hard line as he stares down at the floor while you finish. He doesn't protest; doesn't fall back on religious dogma. He says only one thing in response to your emphasis that you are a destroyer of Hope;_

_He asks if that's what you want to be.  
_

_To that, you don't say anything. You stare hard at the cold, stone floor in your room while Rimush quietly reminds you that a destroyer of Hope would have left him to die at the hands of that crab. His survival gave his father new Hope; gives his people new hope for the future. And if you really are the killer of hope, you would have killed him a long time ago. So why haven't you?_

_Why haven't you indeed..._

_He gets up, quietly moving to leave the room before saying that even if everything you just said was true, he's still glad that you were the one to stay behind. And as you watch him go, a small part of you wonders if you didn't make the right decision after all._

_You realize you were supposed to leave today but you suppose that could wait until tomorrow now._

* * *

  _If someone had told you that you would be twenty five hundred years old before you lost your virginity to a gold-blooded troll prince in a palace dedicated to your divinity you would have only stopped laughing long enough to punch whoever told you so in the face._

_As it is, you’re fucking stained from the waist down in a smear of purple and gold while Rimush’s fingers grip the corner of the bed. Your wings flare behind you, godhood crumpled on the floor as his breath comes hot, hard, and quiet. You don’t even give a fuck if the guards hear; you will straight up smite anyone who comes through the bedroom doors because you’re **trying** to be the cool, aloof, powerful godly lover but you’re having a hard time being anything resembling cool or composed. Not when his lips are pressed flush against yours, his hips buck backwards into your hips and he’s completely naked except for his crown and necklace on the sheets before you.  His bulge twitches as you bottom out inside of him, a thin bead of yellow appearing at the tip as he lets out a heady gasp that sends you spilling over the edge for the third time that night._

_Torchlight flickers down on the scene before you. He looks up at with the fondest look that you can remember someone giving you in your whole life. After two thousand, five hundred years of absolute solitude you want to bottle Rimush and take him with you wherever you go. You want to kiss him so hard that you suck him inside yourself…you must’ve said that last bit out loud because he laughs in your stupid holy face, leaning up to push his lips against yours as you slip out of him, pressing a pillow into your face as he rolls over on top of you, batting the pillow away and forcing you to look at him. You know it's not going to last; the young man is going to grow up and grow old and die like everyone else around you. Only this time you actually care; you would raze the city to the ground if it could be just you and he tumbling throughout the eons. You've only just kissed him and you're already dreading the last kiss you'll ever share with him.  
_

_Something hard presses into your hand and you look down to see a rough, clumsy looking gold ring slide onto your middle finger from Rimush's hand. He knows this isn't going to last; that **tomorrow** will eventually come but when it does, he wants to give something of his to you so that no matter where you go, you'll always remember the foolish little prince who thought he could hunt crab lusus. And at that moment, you wish you were the God of Death because you would create such a paradise in the afterlife for him and him alone. He cannot possibly comprehend that his ugly little ring has done more for you than anything else has in the last two thousand years. You lean up and kiss him, trying to impress just how much you love him right now but you fail so miserably that you have no choice but to kiss him again and again and again until some fraction of your feelings for him sink into him.  
_

_You expect you'll be kissing him all night and you wake the next morning still tangled in his embrace. You’re lying on his soft, lumpy bed, arms wrapped around his waist the next morning. He’s softer than you remember; must be letting himself go because he feels almost like a pillow. You squeeze him tightly against your body, frowning as your arms press against your own chest. Your eyes flutter open and you look around for Rimush in the dark. You fumble around for your cloak but your hand rests against something cold, hard, and metallic on the table next to your bed. Fingers landing on a small bud, the room floods with light almost as though you flipped on a…_

**> >Eridan: Wake Up  
**

You blink, blearily glaring at the lamp on your bedtable. Outside, the garbage truck rumbles by, workers chattering amongst themselves as they dumped the cans into the back of the truck. On the table, the small, golden ring Rimush gave you sits alone, winking up at you in the light almost tauntingly as you swing your legs over the side of the bed with a small, barely perceptible sigh. You look down at yourself, whipping back the sheet almost as if you expected to see any kind of remnant of gold on your skin…but there is none.

There hasn’t been for nearly four thousand years.

**> >Be Eridan Ampora**

…

You do not want to be Eridan Ampora right now.

**> >Be Anyone Else in the World**

Anyone?

**> >Anyone.**

Okay.

You are now Cleg Peterson, thirty-five year old data entry supervisor from Sheboygan Wisconsin. You are coping with your erectile dysfunction and crumbling marriage by immersing yourself in the world of online rpgs where you are being unwittingly **CATFISHED** by a twenty five year old confidence troll by the name of-

**> >Be Anyone Else in the World OTHER THAN CLEG PETERSON**

Fine.

Your name is Briagi Strozi and you live in Moscow with your lover Gregor in a studio apartment over a bakery.

For the last five months you have been catfishing some nobody named Cleg with the hopes of getting his credit card numbers so you can purchase enough teddy bears to begin your smuggling operation to the states. Your comrade Grigri has the computer chips and if you can make it past customs, you can finally-

**> >BE SOMEONE RELEVENT TO THE PLOT.**

_Excuse me?!_

The Ballad of Briagi Strozi and Impotent Cleg is a riveting tale of betrayal and heartbreak that rivals such classical works as _The Count of Monte Cristo_ and-

**> >Be the other sea-dwelling deity.**

Look, let me at least tell you about the part where Cleg and Briagi fight on top of a moving parade float at Mardi Gras-

**> >BE THE OTHER SEA-DWELLING DEITY.**

Fine; your loss.

Pleb.

You are now **Feferi Peixes** and even after a few millennia, you are still the cheerier of the two former highblood deities.

And hey, you have good reason to be so cheery; your life is pretty dang good right now.

You are currently reclining on the beach of a private, primordial island, watching the warm tropical waves lap against the crumbling architecture of the original Frog Temple. You watch a pair of figures poise on the edge of the temple, taking off with a flying leap as Nepeta and Tavros swan dove some four hundred feet into the water below with a pair of titanic splashes. Anyone else would have been turned to jelly on impact but you watch the pair wade up onto the beach, laughing and completely unscathed. They had taken to pushing the limits of their new immortality more and more and Nepeta had gained no small amount of fame from surviving everything from snakebites to bear attacks apparently unscathed.

Karkat has a small fit every time one of Nepeta’s specials aired on Animal Planet though you have to wonder whether he’s more worried about her being discovered or her finding out the hard way your seemingly invincible bodies have limits.

But so far forty-story cannonballs were apparently on the menu; you had tried one or two yourself before flopping back down on the beach towel, trying to ignore the bickering kismesises on either side of you.

**> >Feferi: Fail to Ignore the Bickering Kismesises.**

“You’re just mad because we can’t have a foursome,” Vriska sighs, adjusting her oversized blue and black sunglasses as she rolled over on her beach towel. “Don’t even act like that isn’t the only reason you’re cheesed at me right now.”

“Just how shallow do you think I am?” Kanaya huffs, leaning back in her chair on your other side.

“You spent fifteen minutes selecting the sarong you wanted to wear,” Vriska says, sitting up and looking over as you lean back to give her a better view. “And it still makes you look washed out- _fuck!_ ”

Kanaya raises an arm, catching the light and directing a sparkle into Vriska’s eye which sends her back down to the towel with a muffled growl.

“It’s hard to find something that doesn’t wash you out when you’re the palest shade of grey imaginable,” Kanaya sniffs. “Stop changing the subject; you deliberately meddled-“

“ _Meddled_ ,” Vriska snorts. “Please; that’s like saying I meddled with the tide coming in by bringing a bucket of water closer to the shore. In what universe was your matesprit not going to make a beeline for mine once we gave them the go ahead?”

“So that means you can just trick John into barging in on Rose while she’s showering?” Kanaya grouses as you sit up, eavesdropping just a little bit.

“Hey it’s not like I’m holding a gun to their heads asking them to fuck or die,” Vriska says, earning an involuntary shiver of disgust from both Kanaya and yourself. “Back me up here, Feferi.”

You consider for a moment feigning deafness or pretending to suddenly not understand English as both Kanaya and Vriska turn to look at you with a curious expression. You have no earthly idea what they’re talking about but you feel as though it’s a very long, drawn out story with less sex than you might think there would be.

**> >Feferi: Abscon-**

Fortunately, you don't have to abscond because you’re saved by the timely arrival of Nepeta who drops down onto the blanket next to you, giving you an excuse to slip out of Vriska and Kanaya’s gazes and make for the drink cooler.You haven’t spoken to Nepeta at length in nearly a year (but you watch her every week on TV) which is honestly odd seeing as how the pair of you were literally inseparable during the last part of the Game. It’s strange to think that someone you never really spent much time talking to before things went all belly up became one of your closest friends/clandestine pale-crush as your universes hurtled toward destruction/rebirth.

(You make a note to talk to her once she’s done running all over Jade’s former island home).

“I sensed romantic conflict and I came running,” Nepeta says, crossing her legs on the blanket between Nepeta and Vriska. “What’s going on?”

“At last the authority speaks,” Vriska says, sitting up. “Okay, so we decided to give that thing you and Jade are doing a shot-“

“Wildlife journalism?” Nepeta asks, cocking her head to one side.

“No the…ah…other thing,” Kanaya says with a small cough.

“…erotic roleplaying?” Nepeta says, scratching her head.

“The other thing!” Kanaya says, flushing green in either exasperation or embarrassment.

“…lost rope bondage arts from the third century-“

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Vriska says, flipping on her back and sitting up as you return with the cooler and a grapefruit soda. _ **“The thing where you let Jade fuck other people because humans can’t into quadrants! That thing!”**_

“Ohhhhh,” Nepeta nods in dawning comprehension. “Romantic Jury Rigging; gotcha. What happened?”

“Vriska stepped over the line is what happened,” Kanaya says, ignoring the indignant squawk from Vriska. “She…orchestrated circumstances with Rose and John in order to-“

“Get the ball rolling!” Vriska butts in. “I’m sorry, Kanaya, but you have to face up to the reality that John and Rose were, eventually, going to fuck one another. Might have been today, might be tomorrow, they might be fucking each other as we speak right now.”

“How is this supposed to make me feel any bet-“

“The point is it was going to happen,” Vriska says as Nepeta looks thoughtfully between them. “The question is did you want it to happen now or after another hundred years of waffling around and fucking whorish baristas?”

“Whorish baristas?” You ask, glancing at Nepeta who simply shrugs in confusion. The pair on either side of you bicker in confusion as you quietly watch on, privately pleased that this was the sum of your worries now; quadrant trouble.

These little get-togethers Karkat arranged on Jade’s former island home were as much a victory lap for the Alternian Trolls who suffered the death of two universes as they were a chance to reconnect with one another. It was (as Karkat put it) a “cosmic middle finger to the universe” that they were all alive, happy, and safe…for the most part. Eridan had been tracked down by Karkat and Nepeta but…he still hadn’t shown up to the group meetings like everyone else had.

(You privately don’t know what you would say if he did only that there was a nagging sensation of half-finished things between you. You haven’t had a private conversation with him since returning to life and you know that he wasn’t with the rest of you when Dave and Aradia engaged the sleep-lock. If anything, you could pick his brain for your history core exams.)

Nepeta holds her hands up to forestall any further talking as she adopts a somber expression. Her eyes flash and in a brilliant display of magenta light, her bikini top and swim trunks are replaced with the shimmering godhood of the Rogue of Heart. A pair of olive colored wings flutter behind her, whipping the winds around on the beach as Vriska fights to keep sand out of her eyes.

“I have decreed after much forethought that Vriska, though her intentions were noble, committed a seriously dick move by meddling with Rose’s relationships against her will!” Nepeta says, voice throbbing with divine power as she takes on her divine aspect.

“Aw what?!” Vriska whines. “Boo! Mistrial! Mistrial!”

“I respect the judgment of the Rogue of Heart,” Kanaya says a little smugly as Vriska blows a raspberry at her.

“However, Kanaya is forbidden from meddling fur-ther in these delicate matters!” Nepeta thunders, wings spreading out.

“I wasn’t going to meddle,” Kanaya says as three snorts of disbelief, one of them godly, rip in unison. “I wasn’t going to!“

“So concludes the judgment!” Nepeta finishes with a flash of magenta light, flopping forward onto the blanket as you pass her your soda. “Thank you; rendering sacred romantic advice is thirsty work, ya know.”

“Next time I’m asking Karkat for a judgment,” Vriska growls.

“Karkitty’s not as…progressive about these things as you think,” Nepeta clucks, shaking her head. “He would probably suggest that you’re “deviant” for straying outside the quadrant system. Boy’s a slave to Romantic Four Square; if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have broken up with Dave.”

“Oh god, please, let’s not open that carton of eggs,” Vriska sighs, shaking her head. “I thought this was supposed to be a human free island and all we’ve done is dish about our fleshy, hornless love lives.”

“Hear hear!” You chirp, raising your soda. “Betta Troll Week has officially kicked off! Absolutely no human talk allowed!”

“Seconded, motion carried,” Vriska nodded, banging her hand on the cooler. “Next case…Nepeta’s love life.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Nepeta shrugged. “Jade is-“

“Human talk,” You and Kanaya say at the same time.

“Jade,” Nepeta shrugs. “Not much else to talk about other than that…”

“Really?” Vriska said, arching her eyebrow. “Because I heard from a little doggy that you and Eridan did more than make contact when you first went to Dublin~”

Nepeta’s cheeks flush light green as you glance at her in confusion.

“Wait…I’m confused what happened between you and Eridan?” You ask as Nepeta plucked at a loose thread on the towel. “Did you…get into a fight or-“

“Have you seriously not heard what happened when Karkat sent Nepeta to go check in on Eridan?” Vriska snorts, eyes flickering between you and Nepeta. “Or who her black quadrant has been filled by for the last eight months or so?”

Your brow wrinkles in confusion as Nepeta looks torn between wanting to sink into the sand and pounce on Vriska. Suddenly your brain makes a connection as you nearly choke on your soda and Nepeta looks up at you a little guiltily.

“Wait…you and he actually-“You trail off, glancing at Vriska who simply nods.

“I probably should have said something a little earlier but I just didn’t really have the time,” Nepeta says, scratching the back of her neck. “It was more of a fling-“

“Eight month fling,” Vriska murmurs as Kanaya slaps her on the back of the head.

“-but it’s over now,” Nepeta chuckles nervously with a small shrug. “Not much of a black romance I’m afraid…still shoulda told you.”

You wonder why she’s looking so guilty right now; you and Eridan hadn’t been in any kind of relationship since…the beginning of the SGRUB session. Which was, by your reckoning, some six thousand years in the past. Still…the fact that he hasn’t spoken to you since you woke up while he’s apparently been canoodling Nepeta something fierce is…a little upsetting to say the least.

You think out of anyone, he might have one or two things to say to you.

“It’s fine,” You say with a small smile. You’re not upset with Nepeta after all and only mildly miffed that Eridan hasn’t reached out to you when he seems perfectly happy talking with Nepeta and Karkat.

You’re not miffed; not even slightly.

“What do you mean it’s over?” Kanaya says, lowering her sunglasses with a confused glance.

“Yeah last I heard you were perfectly happy going riding the seahorse,” Vriska snorts, dodging an ice cube Nepeta throws at her from the cooler.

“The…seahorse,” Nepeta coughs, glancing at you for a moment. “Wasn’t the problem…I just don’t think we ever really hated each other; not that way. I thought I would…but I guess I was just despising the person I thought he was.”

“Can’t imagine he’s changed that much; it’s only been two years since-“She stops, brow furrowing for a moment. “Oh shit wait, no it’s been longer than that, hasn’t it?”

“At least from his perspective,” Nepeta shrugs. “You should see all the old stuff he has lying around his hive; it’s like a museum.”

“Sounds like Aradia would have a field day,” You chuckle a little higher than you expected. Everyone glances at you and you busy yourself sipping on your soda.

“If Tholluxth ever leths her near that plathe,” Vriska lisps as you shoot her the sharpest, most imperious glare you can manage. You might not be his matesprit anymore but you’re not going to idly sit by while Vriska takes potshots at something he can’t control. Your lingering imperiousness must be worth more than you thought because Vriska clams up, looking properly abashed as she picks at the lid of her soda.

Good to know your Heir Glare still has some firepower left in it even if you’re not the heir of much anymore.

“Fine; dollar in the Spider8itch Jar when I get home,” Vriska sighs. “Still don’t know why you would stay with someone eight fucking months who you didn’t hate. And speaking as someone who used to black date him I can’t imagine there being much about Eridan that’s worth sticking around for.”

“You want the PC answer or do you want me to be candid?” Nepeta asks, lips twitching into an unreadable smirk.

“You want the PC answer, take it from me!” You turn around to see Karkat dressed in a tank-top and crab printed trunks barreling down the steps leading up to Jade’s former house with a bucket of ice followed by Terezi toting a blender and trailing a string of extension cords.

“I have learned the fucking hard way that there are some things you do not want to fucking know,” Karkat sighs, dropping the buckets of ice in the sand. “Among them are Nepeta’s various reasons for staying with Eridan.”

“It’s a sex thing,” Terezi supplies as Karkat lets out a squawk of anguish, jamming his hands in his ears. “Eridan told him last week that they basically stayed together for the-“

Karkat runs forward red faced, clamping his hand over Terezi’s mouth and smothering an airy giggle as Nepeta shrugged casually.

“Not lying,” Nepeta mutters into the rim of her can. “Was completely a sex thing.”

“Oh come on you expect me to believe that beanpole who couldn’t even bring himself to kiss me when we dated is good enough to stick with in a hateless relationship?” Vriska grouses.

“Maybe Eridan wasn’t the problem in that relationship,” Kanaya sing songs.

“Oh fuck you, why are you sticking up for the guy who fucking murdered you?” Vriska whines.

“Just playing devil’s advocate,” Kanaya says, taking a sip of her drink with a grim smile. “Besides, we’re… _even_ on that count.”

You squirm a little in your seat, idly touching the middle of your chest as your stomach churns uncomfortably with all the talk of who killed who. That was still an oyster shell you weren’t looking forward to cracking open but you supposed you had some time to puzzle out what you were going to say once that moment comes.

It wasn’t like Eridan was going to show up on the beach anytime soon, right?

“Okay can we stow the murder talk for a second?” Karkat sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Things are going to be awkward as fuck when Eridan gets here as it is without getting into who may have murdered who-“

**> >Never Mind.**

“What?!”

Everyone is looking at you and you realize that you must have said that last bit out loud.

“I…no one told me Eridan was coming,” You clear your throat, hoping to sound a little less frantic as everyone turns back to Karkat.

“No one told us, either,” Kanaya says, raising an eyebrow as Karkat (to his credit) doesn’t flinch from four girls glaring at him with a mix of confusion and suspicion.

“He told me,” Terezi says, piling some ice in the blender behind Karkat as everyone turns to look at Terezi. “And he told me to, and I quote, “not tell anyone else lest we have some kind of bitchfit a week before our trip.”

“Bitchfit?” Kanaya says, raising an eyebrow.

“His words, not mine,” Terezi says, holding her hands up as she pulls a six-pack of Faygo out of the cooler. “Anyone up for a cherry margarita? Feferi, you seem like you’re ready to start pounding clown-juice.”

You don’t answer, heart still hammering in your ears as you try and reorient yourself. To say you’re a little ambushed would be a major understatement and you’re not quite sure if you’re dreading or anticipating his arrival.

Maybe neither; maybe both. Honestly the portion of your brain dedicated to untangling the mess of Eridan Ampora has been on vacation since the end of the game so it’s going to take a while to boot back up to its former capacity.

“Woooooooow, Karkat,” Vriska says, clapping sardonically. “Bit early for Christmas presents, isn’t it? How do you think people are going to take sharing the island with someone with so much rainbow on his hands?”

“I don’t know; everyone puts up with _you_ well enough,” Karkat shoots back without missing a beat. Vriska’s mouth falls open and Terezi’s unseeing eyes go wide, hand covering her mouth to smother a surprised laugh. “There’s an awesome saying about glass houses and throwing stones, Vriska, you might want to look it up sooner or later.”

He may as well have reached across the sand and slapped Vriska full in the face. You share a glance with Nepeta as even Kanaya looks a little shocked for Vriska’s sake.

“Whoa, what’s with the sudden attitude?” Vriska rises to her feet followed by Kanaya who puts a hand on her shoulder. “Storing that one up for a rainy day, were you?”

Karkat still manages to be a full inch shorter than her but he doesn’t so much as blink when Vriska looks half-angry, half-upset. You have to privately admit that was a broadside that you hadn’t expected from the S.S. Vantas but it’s times like these you wonder which of the pair of you has the better Stern Leaderly Glare.

“Look,” Karkat says before anyone can say anything else. “Sorry if I hit below the belt there but I don’t really feel like mincing my fucking words right now. We are all going to be stuck with each other for a very very long time. It is a small world and our space programs are still kind of pathetic. At some point, we’re going to have to come to grips with the fact that we have to deal with one another. For good or bad or whatever. And that includes Dr. Misery-guts the World’s Oldest Scotsman or whatever. I’m not saying you need to be friends with the guy or even talk to him. Fuck, take a swing at him if you want; god only knows he’s earned a chairshot or two to the head over the years.”

“But,” Karka sighs, folding his arms and looking down at the sand. “ _But_ we spent a year making this fucking universe and the last six thousand years asleep. Honestly, we don’t know who we are or even what we are anymore. Currently we seem to be a collection of mildly rich, completely immortal assholes who get drunk, fuck around on a beach and bait deadly animals for shits and giggles. That’s what we do. Now Eridan…love him, hate him, beat his face in with a sledgehammer if you want to but _please_ remember that everything we know about ourselves and this world has come courtesy of the Troll Out of Time.”

You have always wondered why Nepeta seemed so sure of her capabilities or even certain of the fact that you will all stop aging when you are in the prime of your lives…but you suppose that someone who has been stranded on Ear… _Altearthia_ for so long would know what you can and can’t do as gods…

“Until…until we find Gamzee, Eridan is the only one who can offer us any kind of fucking insight into our weird immortal existences,” Karkat says. “I don’t know about you but I’ve played enough fucking games without knowing the rules; I want the instruction manual this time. Fuck that, I want the four-hundred page gold leaf limited edition guide that tells us the cheat codes for running this planet. Currently we have one copy so _please_ refrain from scuffing it up until we have a chance to go through it.”

Vriska is back on the sand, muttering something under her breath as Kanaya gives her a look that’s almost…pitiful.

“On top of that,” Karkat concludes, looking back up at the four of you as Terezi stands nodding behind him. “Jade put me in charge of this island while we’re here; my island, my guests, my rules. Anyone wants to leave now would be the time to call the mainland. Otherwise get yourself some thinkpan-rotting slushee and put the reggae on until the purple seaman gets here.”

You stare at him completely dumbstruck for a moment as he turns and stomps back up the steps. With a couple of words, Karkat completely neutralized what could have been a pretty nasty situation

“Now if you’ll excuse me, the pizza rolls need to come out of the oven,” He calls over his shoulder as Terezi pours herself a tall glass of frothy, icy slushee and downs it in one go.

“Someone piss him off again,” Terezi snickers, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Bossy Karkat is my _faaaaaavorite_ kind of Karkat.”

**> >Feferi:Brood. **

But you suck at that!

**> >Feferi: Pretend you're Eridan and Brood. **

Fine...you'll give it a go. 

Terezi hauls the pitcher down the beach where Tavros and Aradia are coming out of the surf and you suddenly feel a desire to take Terezi up on her offer of getting liquored up just a little bit. You need a stiff drink; maybe two. Maybe you’ll pour a small glass and then start chugging the pitcher like you’re a dying fish of some kind.

You’ve never really been one to indulge in the intoxicating soda in any form but you think you might deserve it; your former friend slash ex-platonic soulmate who you haven’t seen in over six-thousand years since you returned from life after you were murdered by him is en route. You don’t know what you’re going to do when you see him; you might just as soon break his nose as hug him. You don’t even know quite how you feel about seeing him again but you know one thing for certain;

You are definitely going to need more Faygo for this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be done when I finish my 800000 word doctoral thesis on Impotent Cleg and his quest for love in the digital age. I don't think every chapter is going to have Eridan romancing young princes throughout history but I feel like i got to backfill his character a little since we have to get him from young-douchefin to older-douchefin somehow. I know y'all didn't show up to see Eridan boning ocs so please hang with me a little longer. 
> 
> Next chapter; the most awkward get together in the history of the world featuring drunken gossiping, fistfighting, and the awkward moment when your ex is hotter than you expected.


	3. But God Invented Chills

**> >Eridan: Sail**

You fucking wish; you haven’t been able to find a serviceable sloop or galleon since the end of the 18th century. One good thing about the age of powdered wigs and pantaloons was that it wasn’t hard to find a decent square rigger but good luck trying to find anything nowadays that's fit for anything other than conveying inebriated yuppies around the harbor.

You thought about joining a yacht club once. And _only_ once.

**> >Eridan: Motorboat then**

As is, the small yacht you rented from a place on the mainland that Harley dropped you off at would get you laughed out of Nassau and capsized by the wake of much larger ships but you’re grateful to have some means of bailing from Harley’s island should things get so awkward that you want to pull your own eyeballs out…or in case someone else wants to pull your eyeballs out for you.

You’re half tempted to turn the boat around and spend another weekend getting drunk in Sidney but you see the ridiculously large spire of Chez Furry rise out of the ocean and figure you’ve passed the point of no return. An emotional event horizon if you will. You remember once being caught by a giant squid lusus in the middle of the Caribbean once that tore your ship to pieces and honestly you'd rather go another round with the King of Kalamari than attend what is bound to be the most awkward party you've ever been to that didn't have the Donners involved.

Convenience is only part of the reason why you decided to arrive to the island like a fucking Bond villain. It also gives you ample time to rehearse/fret over any one of the numerous worst case scenarios you’ve managed to brood over/consider since the day after you and Gamzee were stranded. You have a list of contingency plans and possible scenarios for this reunion that you have mulled over during years where you didn’t have much going on (the 1800’s saw you write an entire book of potential disaster scenarios for lack of anything more productive to do).

And while you lost the book (and may or may not have used the pages as fire starter after that business with the Donners went all pear-shaped) your contingency fretting yielded the following results:

  * Karkat-Least likely to eviscerate you. Most likely to give an incredibly wet hug while swearing at you.
  * Aradia-No earthly clue. You didn’t spend two minutes talking to the girl before so she’s just as likely to stab you as speak to you.
  * Tavros-Unlikely to eviscerate you up to the point where you tell him where Gamzee is. Avoid the charge attack.
  * Sollux-Ironically enough a 50/50 shot. He was never your biggest fan (in the same way Aaron Burr was never Alexander Hamilton's biggest fan) but you did share a body with him at once point. That counts for something...right?
  * Nepeta-Marked down as unknown until about eight months ago. Closest thing you have to an actual friend out of the group even if she is your most recent ex.
  * Kanaya-Most likely to eviscerate you. Keep her away from chainsaws, turkey carvers, and electric toothbrushes.
  * Terezi-Kar’s current girlfriend (or matesprit or whatever) but also kind of obsessed with the whole justice thing so might just as soon fit you for a noose as hug you.
  * Vriska-Fellow murderer. Wild card; no idea how she feels about you. It's come to a pretty pass when Vriska may not be the most likely person to murder you.
  * Equius-Hopefully Nep put in a good word for you. If not maybe you can prey on lingering hemoclassist sentiments even if you killed up the spectrum.
  * Feferi-…yeah even after six thousand years you don’t want to venture a guess as to how that reunion is going to go. She’s bounced all over the Top Ten Alternians Most Likely To Eviscerate Eridan list, going from the absolute bottom (she's always been a forgiving person…) to the absolute top (…but you punched a fucking hole in her chest you fucking loser). Currently you’re erring towards the bottom just to be safe but of all your potential eviscerators, you suppose that your ex-moirail has the most right to make sashimi out of you unless things have changed considerably since-



**> >Eridan: Consider the possibility that things _may_ have changed considerably since-. **

…shit, you’re right.

Two years isn’t exactly the same as six-thousand years (no shit, you think???) but the fact of the matter is that your teammates haven’t been in stasis for two years now. They’ve grown up; moved on as evidenced by Karkat and Terezi’s new relationship. All your fretting contingencies had always been counting on the dubious notion of you bucking up and making contact with them after they re-entered the time stream, basically where you left off. But the fact of the matter is that you don’t even know if your friends are even the same people you used to know.

Could be a good thing; could be a bad thing. All you can do is hope that Karkat at least gave people a heads up so they’re not suddenly surprised by you showing up out of nowhere and start panicking…

* * *

  
**> >Feferi: Start panicking.**

No!

You absolutely refuse to lose your cool in this situation!

**> >Feferi: Pretend you’re Eridan and-**

You’ve pretended to be Eridan enough for one day, thank you very much (it isn’t what you’d call a pleasant experience). You’re not going to waste any more time putting yourself in Eridan’s shoes; this is clearly a Peixes Problem and a Peixes Problem requires a Peixes Solution!

…if you only knew what that solution was.

**> >Feferi: Assess the situation.**

Good place to start!

Okay; your ex-moirail/ex-friend who murdered you over six thousand years ago is coming back and you’re going to sea him for the first time since returning to life…what do you do?

**> >Feferi: Ask Abbey**

_Dear Abbey,_

_I am an alien deity from beyond the stars and before the dawn of time. I breathed life into all the plants and animals that walk the world’s surface. I can detect life, heal the gravest of wounds, and even restore things from the icy hand death and I have boy troubles. My ex-friend, former platonic soulmate, and murderer is coming to an island to tell us how living six thousand years feels and how it’s like to be all godly and stuff. I kind of want to punch him in the face but I kind of want to just talk to him. What do I do?_

_Sincerely,_

_Troubled in Paradise_

You delete the email before it even sends, closing your laptop with a sigh. You are beyond the wisdom of Abbey.

  **> >Feferi: Ask Nepeta.**

“Refill?”

Nepeta looks up from her perch on the window overlooking the sea, accepting the glass of Faygo slushee from you with a grateful smile as you saddle up beside her. _En Faygo Veritas_ , after all, and you could use a little Veritas when it comes to exactly what kind of guy you’re dealing with now. And who better to ask than the person who’s known Eridan (in the biblical sense even) the longest since you’ve woken up.

(You never thought Nepeta would have a leg up on Eridan compared to you but perhaps that speaks to the strange times you’re living in.)

“Thanks,” Nepeta chirps, taking a long drink out of the lime green slushee as she leans against the windowsill. “But you probably didn’t come over here to give me a drink.”

“Not true,” You say, kicking your feet out the window as you stare out over the ocean. “I did come over here to top you off-”

“You also came over here to grill me about Eridan,” Nepeta says with a small, cattish smirk, lips already tinting green from the slushee.

“That too,” You chuckle, twisting a curl of your hair between your fingers. “I must seem messier than shrimp gumbo, right?”

“I don’t think anyone’s noticed,” Nepeta leans in and whispers with a stage wink. “Least not anyone who doesn’t have front row seats to someone’s innermost feelings.”

“…and you do?” You ask, scooting backwards a little as Nepeta’s brows waggle knowingly.

“Llllllllllet’s just say that I could write a book on the black romance between Kanaya and Vriska right now and leave it at that,” Nepeta says with a small, self-satisfied smile. “I give them a week before they stop fussing around and admit they’ve gone flushed for each other.”

“Seriously?” You say, wondering exactly how much Nepeta can tell about you just from looking at you.

“ _Sea-riously_ ,” Nepeta chuckles, tugging a nervous laugh from your throat. “But if you came here to ask how you feel about Eridan coming back, I should probably warn you that I can’t even begin to figure out what’s going with-“

Nepeta makes a swirly hand gesture in the air at…well, all of you.

“Like three or four different balls of yarn after an angry gang of kittens got their claws on them,” Nepeta says, confirming what you already knew about yourself (she may be less helpful than you originally thought).

“No I was just…ugh, I don’t even know,” You sigh, wishing you had started hitting the sauce a little earlier. Maybe in a state of drunkenness you might achieve a kind of Drunken Master-esque nirvana in which your issues with Eridan would become completely trivial to deal with.

At the very least, maybe you could have blacked out for the week and completely missed him.

“I don’t…I guess I don’t even know who I’m dealing with anymore, do I?” You say, kicking your feet back and forth off the windowsill with a small sigh of frustration. “I mean, I didn’t have the best grip on him back when we were…friendly? But I guess a lot of time has passed from his perspective, hasn’t it?”

“From all _purrspectives_ , I’d say,” Nepeta says, taking another sip of her drink.

“Still, he can’t really be the same kind of person he was when we…when I last saw him, right?” You ask, broaching the topic as gingerly as you could.

“I don’t know about that,” Nepeta says, tilting her head back and forth. “Still walks around in coats that could be mistaken for capes in a stiff breeze…still a total navy geek…still fond of loading his fingers up with all kinds of silly rings...still a little pompous and purrejudiced but apparently just against the “fuckin’ English” now. Still kind of a drama queen.”

“That was never going to change,” You snort, shaking your head.

“He’s a lot…I guess older is the word,” Nepeta sighs. “Worn…like one of those broken pieces of glass that spend furever lying on the beach getting pounded by the waves and the surf until they’re all smooth and cloudy and stuck on a plate at a touristy shack or…”

Nepeta frowns, tipping the rest of her drink over the edge.

“Nuff of that stuff,” She says, sticking out her lime green tongue. “I was starting to ramble on something fierce…anyway, where was I…oh right; sea glass.”

“He’s sea glass in a cape?” You snort. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know that metaphor got away but it’s apt as all heck I tell you what,” Nepeta nods confidently, teetering a little on the windowsill as she looks out over the ocean thoughtfully. “Cloudy…that’s another good word. Like sometimes he’s like really super intense and in the moment-“

Nepeta coughs, cheeks going a little olive as you try not to read between the lines too much.

“And sometimes he just kinda looks like he’s a million miles away…super spacy and stuff,” Nepeta says, biting a nail thoughtfully. “I dunno; wish I could do more for ya, I really do but he’s tougher to crack than a coconut wrapped in bubble wrap.”

Finally something that made sense.

“That’s nothing new,” You laugh a little bitterly, taking a sip of your own drink. “He’s always been impossible to get through to even in the best of times…I can’t imagine he’s going to be all that easy to talk to this week, is he?”

“Hey, when Karkat sent me up there to check in on him, he didn’t talk to me for a week or so,” Nepeta snorts. “Just went about his day to day like I _wasn’t_ crouched in his tree watching him through binoculars-“

You nearly inhale the icy drink through a straw, spluttering and pounding your chest as Nepeta continues.

“After a while though he wanted to know if I was going to freeze to death outside or if I wanted to spy on him from inside his own house,” Nepeta says, tilting her head to one side. “He’s always talked when he wants to talk, you know that, right?”

You know that which makes it all the more frustrating to consider the fact that Eridan is almost certainly going to suck into his shell like a frightened anemone the minute you get anywhere near him. You haven’t spoken to him since the world cooled and people started walking the earth; you would think you have given him plenty of time to get himself good and ready to explain himself…or even just talk.

Because don’t you deserve _that_ much at the very least?

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Nepeta chuckles, poking you in the side with her toe and shaking you out of your reverie. “Least you’re not going to be the only fishy-ex here. Gimme a wave and I can pull him off your scent a little…or maybe throw Vriska under the bus a bit.”

“Hehe, thanks,” You giggle, lightly swatting Nepeta’s foot away. “I can always pull the “at least I didn’t break up with him on his wriggling day” card.”

“Ohmygod did Vriska break up with Eridan on his wriggling day?” Nepeta snickers. “How _meeeeeeeean_ of her.”

“…no, that was...that was you,” You say, frowning at Nepeta a bit. “You…broke up with him last Tuesday, right?”

“Which was the day before his wriggling day,” Nepeta says, sitting up a little. “Still kind of mean but I didn’t think it was fair to keep up the charade for another-”

Nepeta trails off, counting on her fingers as she no doubt is trying to match up the Alternian calendar to the new Altearthian calendar.

“…there are thirty one days in November, right?” Nepeta asks quietly, glancing at you with wide eyes.

“Thirty days hath September,” You say softly. “April, June and-“

“ _Nooooooooooooooo_ ,” Nepeta moans, clutching her head in her hands as she nearly falls off the windowsill.

"-vember," You finish.

“Oh my _goooooooood_ I broke up with him on his wriggling day?! Are you kidding me?!” Nepeta all but shrieks.

“I am not _kitten_ you at all,” You say, trying not to laugh.

“Not the time; freaking out over here!” Nepeta squeaks. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

“How did you _not_ know this?” You giggle, taking a sip of your drink. “You guys _seriously_ didn’t have a big, whiny breakup fight?”

“No!” Nepeta moans, pulling at her hair. “You wouldn’t have known it was his wriggling day from how he acted! No party, no balloons, no nothing! He went to school, came back, we had sex on the counter-“

You resolve to stop drinking while Nepeta is talking as you once again nearly breathe in your lemonade, sending you into another fit of coughs.

“-and then we broke up!” Nepeta finishes completely ignoring. “Clean break! No muss, zero fuss! Not even a “ _wwoww, Nep, wwhat a fuckin lame wwrigglin day present_.”

Now _that_ you find hard to believe. What you wouldn’t have given to have a smooth breakup with Eridan instead of the protracted, messy affair the end of your moirailegence had been. What you wouldn’t have given for an amicable break and whatever the platonic equivalent of goodbye sex on the counter was (probably one last feelings jam in the wand pile or something). But nooooooo that would be too much to hope for, wouldn’t it?

…you don’t know why you’re upset that Nepeta didn’t have a terrible breakup with Eridan like you and Vriska had but as it is, her membership in the Mopey Violet Prince Ex Club is under review pending a hearing.

**> >Feferi: Greet Your Friendleader**

Karkat nearly bowls over Vriska as he storms up the stairs into the common room, glancing around and snapping his fingers in what can only be described as a tizzy. He spots Nepeta, making beeline for your window perch so quickly that if he tripped he would go sailing through the window behind you.

“Nepeta, please, I need you right now!” Karkat pants, leaning on the wall for support.

“Wow, if you had said those exact same words to six-sweep Nepeta she would have turned green and passed out,” Nepeta snickers, pushing herself off the windowsill as Karkat grabbed her wrist and started futilely tugging her towards the door.

“Should I tell Terezi that her matesprit is getting handsy with another girl?” You giggle, feet kicking off the edge of the windowsill.

“Such a yuckster, you are,” Karkat grouses, nodding over towards the door. “Nepeta the…ah… _supplies_ are here.”

“Supplies?” Nepeta says, frowning a little.

“Yeah surprisingly enough eleven teenagers eat a lot of shit,” Karkat says, nodding over to the door. “And since you’re, uh, familiar with the supplies-“

“I am?” Nepeta says, glancing at you as you shrug helplessly.

“-I need your help unloading them,” Karkat says, twisting Nepeta’s head until she’s staring at him straight in the eyes. “I _need_ your _help_ to _unload_ some **important supplies**.”

Karkat’s right eye twitches in a flurry of winks as you push yourself off the windowsill. Nepeta looks as nonplussed as you do as Karkat tugs her towards the door.

“You guys need a hand or-“

“NO!” Karkat blurts out, chuckling nervously. “No, no, no hands needed! Just me and Nepeta! Unloading supplies in the cave downstairs…alone…without anyone else!”

“Okay…but-“

“Look, these are some seriously heavy supplies we got on our hands; we need some seriously strong trolls on the job,” Karkat says, steering Nepeta down the stairs. “No worries; just sit your imperious tush down and we’ll…we’ll be back in a second!”

You frown after them, crossing your arms across your waist as they disappear through the door leading down to the docks. You may not be the biggest troll but living at the bottom of the ocean for most of your life means you’re stronger than _Karkat_ at the very least. You glance over at Terezi who seems to be too engrossed in poking Vriska in the side with a baguette to notice her matesprit spiriting Nepeta away and wonder if you should be concerned on her behalf...is Karkat…no Karkat wouldn’t…and besides you don’t want to jump to conclusions…

**> >Feferi: Jump to conclusions.**

But you will anyway; Karkat is totally red-cheating on Terezi with Nepeta and you have to stop them.

* * *

  **> >Eridan: Dock.**

The subterranean dock is certainly atmospheric; proper piratey which strangely puts you at ease as you steer your craft into the shrouded cave. If you ever get as stupid rich as Strider you might buy yourself an island and install yourself a cove just to feel cool and piratey every now and then.

Something to shoot for anyway; you got plenty of time to build the pirate death castle you wanted since you were a kid.

A set of worn stone steps stretch up towards a cavern where two figures are approaching, one tugging the other along insistently. You can barely hear their babbling over the purr of the boat motor as you pull up to the rickety looking wooden dock. You fiddle with your bracelet a little anxiously, touching the crude gold and silver rings you managed to collect over the years as you busy yourself getting ready to disembark.

The throttle tempts you as you grab your pack, beckoning you to turn around and floor it back to the mainland as fast as possible. The choice is there; the choice is always there but you didn’t come all the way out here on a boat rented from a cross-eyed Australian seaman to turn around now.

Eridan Ampora was no coward; murderer, fashion victim, misery gust and clinically self-loathing prickwhistle but _not_ a coward.

**> >Eridan: Greet friends.**

You have friends?

Oh snap, you do have friends! A grand total of two both of which are making their way down the stairs towards your boat.

“ _Eridan_ is not supplies!” Nepeta says, stumbling down the ramp as Karkat pushes her forward. "Unless you meant to say "surprise" and had marbles in your mouth!"

“Whoop-de-fucking-do I told a white lie," Karkat says as they reach the dock. "Sorry if I didn't want Eridan to barge in unannounced and have everyone look at him like deer in the headlights."

**> >Eridan: Fondly regard crustacean.**

Karkat stops on the edge of the dock as you raise the gangplank. He’s looking down at you with an unreadable expression but as you grow closer and closer, his blank, stunned expression twists into one of disgust until you’re standing on even ground with him and he is sneering up at you with an unmistakable look of disgust.

“Oh…fuck you man, come on,” Karkat sighs, running his hand through his hair as he looks up at you. “Come on you were already taller than me! This is fucking unnecessary!”

You suppress a watery laugh as Karkat starts pushing backwards down the gangplank.

“Go on; get the fuck back on the boat!” Karkat grouses, shoving you half-heartedly. “Come back when you don’t disgust the rest of us with your fucking grotesque altitude you freakishly…vertical…”

His hands clutch your shirt, shoulders shaking a little as Nepeta hangs back for a moment. Your hands go a little numb as you slowly place your hands on his shoulders, embracing him in an awkward hug that does so little to express just how grateful you are that he decided to reach out to you. Two years of awkward chatting online now finally have some kind of weight behind them as Karkat mumbles incoherently into your chest.

God, is he tiny; why did you think he was taller than this? He must have grown in your memories until he was as big as his personality was. You figured Captain Capslock must’ve been bigger than you remembered him but no, all five feet seven inches of Karkat barely comes up to your chest, all but sniffling and mumbling something unintelligible into your shirt.

The thought of possibly having a friend who isn’t going to grow old and die someday is something you never really considered until now. Of course, you could fuck this up and Karkat could loathe you for the rest of your immortal lives but for the moment, you allow yourself a little shred of optimism.

“You got about seven more years to grow, Kar,” You chuckle, earning a bitter, watery snort as Karkat pulls back, angrily swiping his hands across his eyes. “Never too late to hit that growth spurt.”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me about growth spurts,” Karkat says, awkwardly punching you in the shoulder. “People over six feet tall don’t get to talk down to the rest of us.”

“Kinda hard not to talk down when you’re so- _oomph_!” You stagger backwards as Karkat lashes out with a bony jab to your midsection.

“ **What did I just fucking say?**!” Karkat snaps as Nepeta bites back a snigger.

“This is a proper red-carpet you got rolled out for me here,” You wheeze, clutching your mid-section. “Though considerin’ I was expectin’ to pull up under cannonfire this is positively rosy.”

“God, Nepeta, how did you manage to stomach this drama queen for so long?” Karkat moans, rolling his eyes as you catch Nepeta’s somewhat guilty, apprehensive look with a small frown before a very toothy grin breaks out across her face.

“I thought that would be purrfectly obvious by now, Karkitty,” Nepeta says, shooting you a significant look as her eyebrows waggle.

“Oh…oh god no,” Karkat moans, looking between the two of you. “For the love of fuck, guys, do you have to-“

“Don’t be such a prude, Kar,” You say, mouth splitting open into a very sharp smile. “You were the one who asked after all.”

“You pair of fucking shameless harlots,” Karkat mutters, face flushing up from his neck.

“He keeps asking too,” Nepeta sighs, poking Karkat on his cheek. “I think he likes to hear me say our threadbare blackrom was stitched together with nothing more than bed-breaking-“

“Fucking deviants is what you are,” Karkat shuddered, cutting off Nepeta as you head down the gangplank to grab the rest of your luggage. “I expected perverts like Equius to fuck around outside quadrants but I can’t believe you would stoop so low, Nepeta. Where does this fall on the fucking shipping wall?!”

“Oh come on Karkitty get with the times,” Nepeta chirp, catching your sack that you toss to her. “I’m on shipping webs now; shipping walls are so last sweep it’s not even funny. Besiiides if no one gets hurt then what’s the harm? Gotta broaden the relationship horizon a little.”

“Yeah, I just scored the matesprit I’ve wanted since I was knee high to Crabdad; I am _so_ ready to fuck around with experimental sexromances. No fucking thank you.”

“Prude,” Nepeta huffs.

You come up the gangplank with the last of your bags, noting a bitter expression flit across Nepeta’s gaze. You wonder if she’s still hung up on Karkat even after all this time but even if she is you know there’s nothing to help it but time and space. You had six thousand years to get over Feferi and get over her you did.

Lingering awkwardness aside, Feferi could storm around the corner right now and you wouldn’t so much as bat an eyelash. You are the very definition of cool as a cucumber.

**> >Feferi: Storm around the corner.**

You’ve heard enough. You have to put a stop to this for everyone’s benefit.

_“I expected perverts like Equius to fuck around outside quadrants but I can’t believe you would stoop so low, Nepeta. Where does this fall on the fucking shipping wall?!”_

You heard Karkat and Nepeta arguing as you crept down the stone steps leading down from the house, wondering if this was something Karkat was being roped into against his will. Nepeta doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to force someone into quadrant relationships but-

_“Oh come on Karkitty get with the times. I’m on shipping webs now; shipping walls are so last sweep it’s not even funny. Besiiides if no one gets hurt then what’s the harm? Gotta broaden the relationship horizon a little.”_

Okay, that definitely sounded a little coercive. Besides, Nepeta always had flushed feelings for Karkat so maybe this wasn’t so far out of her wheelhouse as you initially thought.

_“Yeah, I just scored the matesprit I’ve wanted since I was knee high to Crabdad; I am so ready to fuck around with experimental sexromances. No fucking thank you.”_

Okay that was a definite no; you may love Nepeta in an awkward attempt at human sisterhood but she has stepped **over the line** and you need to stop this before it goes too far. You summon up your most Imperious Heir Glare as you round the corner.

** >>Eridan: Pretend to be Eridan and Panic. **

_“Okay, that’s it! I’m putting a stop to this!”_

Remember all that good shit you said about being cool as a cucumber up there?

Well you can throw that out the window. Sink it to the bottom of the sea. Feed your confidence through a wood chipper, douse the pieces in kerosene and light it on fire.

You hear a voice you haven’t heard since literally the dawn of civilization and you feel cool alright. So cool that your blood runs like an arctic fucking spring, babbling through the frigid corridors and valleys of your veins and freezing you to the spot, bag clutched protectively. Her eyes go straight to Nepeta and in the fleeting second she doesn’t recognize you, you realize that her hair is gone.

No, not gone; just not past her waist like it’s been since the day you met her. Short, wavy black locks twirl around her shoulders as she turns on Nepeta with the third fiercest Heir Glare you can remember seeing. She puts her hands on the hips of her high waisted purple shorts, brushing off her white tank-top as she points an accusatory finger at a very confused looking Nepeta.

“Look, I know you’re still getting over Karkat and that’s got to be tough on everyone but you can’t just go off and force yourself on him like this!”

…and there she goes trying to fix everything again like it’s her job or something. She lost three feet of hair, gained a few inches to rise to Karkat’s height, but otherwise was the same Feferi you knew…other than the fact that the sight of her now made your stomach twist and turn like you were being sucked through a wormhole.

“Feferi, what the _fuck_ are you-“ Karkat is silenced as Feferi holds a hand up.

“You don’t need to defend her, Karkat, I heard everything,” Feferi says, patting Karkat on the head like he’s a four year old. “I know what’s going on down here and it has to stop.”

“Feferi-“ Nepeta cuts in.

“Nepeta, please, just let this all go!” Feferi says, reaching out and touching Nepeta’s shoulder as she shares a bewildered glance with Karkat. “I know you two are “experimenting with non-traditional relationships” or whatever it was you called it but Karkat is happy with Terezi now!”

“Feferi we-“ Karkat stops talking as Feferi places her other hand on Karkat’s shoulder, brow crinkling in frustration.

“I know a one off fling might feel good in the moment but think about what you’re doing to yourself,” Feferi implores Nepeta as your vocal cords fail to work for you. Even if they did, what would you even say right now?

“Nepeta, if you ever want to move on from this you need to-“

**> >Feferi: Realize you’re airing your friends’ dirty laundry in front of a stranger.**

You’re so busy helping your friends through their romantic turmoil that you forgot that you’ve been arguing in front of the supply delivery man for the past few minutes. Embarrassed, you glance over your shoulder with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, can you give us a minute?” You ask as politely as possible as the poor troll looks positively dumbstruck by the whole ordeal. “Promise we’ll keep this short!”

“Now, as I was saying-“ You continue. "You both need to take some time and just-"

**> >Feferi: Regard Eridan.**

What? Don’t be ridiculous! Eridan isn’t due to arrive for some time now! You have plenty of time to work out Nepeta and Karkat’s issues before he gets here.

Now, as you were saying-

**> >Feferi: Regard Eridan.**

Now you’re just being silly.

The only people in this dock are you, Nepeta, Karkat, and the violet blooded delivery man who doesn’t look anything like Eridan!

**> >Feferi: Regard the delivery man then.**

That's better.

You have to be blind and slightly stupid to suggest that the two could be confused in any way, shape, or form.. I mean seriously, Eridan’s a beanpole of a boy! The delivery man is built like he’s spent his life hoisting enormous parcels for some swarthy ocean delivery company. Eridan wears glasses; this guy doesn’t. Eridan has a swathe of purple in his neatly styled coif and this person’s hair is pitch back and wind tossed. Eridan never had a thin, pale grey scar running from cheekbone to cheekbone across the bridge of his nose either and wouldn’t be caught dead without a scarf or a cape or something wrapped around him. He wouldn’t wear a horribly mismatched charm bracelet loaded with a hodgepodge of rings or anything that couldn’t also double as some kind of military uniform.

**> >Are you sure?**

Yes!

**> >Really?**

_Reel-y_!

**> >Reely Reely?**

I mean…okay, the delivery guy has the same shaped horns as Eridan and…if Eridan was aged up like seven years since you last saw him they might look alike…and it is kinda dark down in this cave but there’s still no way this guy could be Eridan…right?

**> >Wrong.**

Wrong?!

Then…wait...

**> >Yep.**

And you just-

**> >Uh-huh.**

Then…Nepeta and Karkat aren’t-

**> >Nope.**

…so that means that the supposed delivery guy is-

**> >Feferi: REGARD ERIDAN LIKE WE TOLD YOU TO.**

You realize now why you didn’t think this person could be Eridan…

Life is kinda your thing; you can sense and manipulate life from the smallest flower to the largest whale. You can feel life hanging on people like a shroud and you never imagined Eridan feeling so old while looking so young. You remember going to California with Nepeta and Jade walking through an ancient redwood forest and feeling the waves of life ripple off the grizzled, battle scarred trunks. You felt every year of life hand on them like Christmas ornaments and you realize now that those ancient giants would be like freshly planted grass compared to the troll in front of you.

You never considered that Eridan would be so much older than you could have imagined. When you imagined this conversation/confrontation you pictured yourself talking to the Eridan you watched walk away from your camp so many thousands of sweeps ago. You at least knew who he more or less was back then but now he was literally ten feet away from you and you completely didn't recognize him.

“Feferi,” He says with a small, uncertain nod and _wow_ does that sound wrong coming from his lips. You can’t remember a time when you weren’t just Fef to him…but you suppose you’re hardly on nickname terms anymore. You don’t rightly know what kind of terms you’re on anymore; only that you may as well have never met this person before. 

You also realized that you just accused Karkat of cheating on Nepeta and outed Nepeta's flushed-crush on Karkat to him like a total rube.

You really want to abscond the fuck out of there but you can’t-

**> >THERE IS NO _CAN’T_   WHEN YOU ARE A GODDESS.**

Good point.

**> >Feferi: Abscond**

You squeak something out as you’re up the stairs, heart pounding in your ears and head spinning. He may have called something after you or that could have been Karkat but at this point, you're not really up to talking until you recover from making an ass of yourself. You barrel through the door, nearly knocking Tavros over as you glance at the assembled trolls milling around the living area in small groups as some light islandy music plays on the radio somewhere nearby.

"Shit, FF, you look like you seen Jack Noir in a thong," Sollux idly remarks from his spot on the couch, a small concerned frown fleeting across his expression. You must be looking more flushed than you feel because even Vriska is looking at you strangely.  
"Everything okay?"

**> >Feferi: Be as cool as Dave Strider.  
**

"Y-yeah Eri- _everything_ is fine!" You say with a high pitched chuckle as you make a beeline for the kitchen. You only now remember that Dave Strider is perhaps the biggest dweebmuffin in paradox space and you could probably find radioactive silos cooler than he is. "Just ah...helping Karkat with the supplies and-"

**> >Eridan: Fix this shit. **

You said one word and you've already cocked it all up; this must be some kind of fucking record for you fishlips. 

You pass off your bag to Karkat at the bottom of the stairs and take the slippery stone steps two at a time, trying to catch up to Feferi and say...something. You don't know what but you figure if you can at least try and get some kind of second-first impression mulligan, you might be able to salvage this hot, steaming disaster of a situation.

She hadn't forked you on sight at least so it looks like your second most dreaded disaster scenario isn't going to come to pass...you hope,

You reach the top of the stairs, flinging the back door open and charging into the house.

"Feferi, wait, I-"

**> >Eridan: Regard everyone,**

You take two steps into the main living room and immediately feel seven pairs of eyes lock onto you with varying reactions. Vriska has frozen with a straw halfway to her mouth, eyes bugging out every so slightly as Kanaya raises a scruitinous eyebrow in your direction. Tavros is looking between you and Feferi with a baffled expression, glancing behind you as though he expects someone else to follow. Terezi's nose seems to be angled in your direction, her head cocked to the side as if she can't quite figure out what she's (not) seeing. On the other end of the spectrum you have Aradia who looks right past you and stares at the bracelet jangling from your wrist while Sollux looks at you like you just walked in naked except for a cow's skull on your head; a look of slightly uncomfortable bemusement flavored with just a dash of this-is-gonna-be-good.

Feferi turns to look at you and for the first time it strikes you that she looks about as terrified as you feel right now.

Silence lingers in the room for a few torturous moments before the door off to the side opens and Equius steps in, long black hair stained with chunks of some kind of frozen green slushee.

"Someone seems to have lost control of their beverage," Equius says, wringing his locks out. "At the risk of becoming a complete parody of myself...could someone please fetch me a towel?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering where 90% of the fish puns and cat puns went to in the Feferi/Nepeta dialogue it's because I get a bit peeved when writers make every other word they say some kind of animal pun. 
> 
> That said I'm still not 100% on their personalities so feedback would be appreciated from Fefeta fans. 
> 
> Holding pattern chapter; thanks for being so patient and thanks for all your support thus far!


	4. The Universe Has Left Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor moving gif in the chapter.

**> >Feferi: Convene the meeting of the Ex’s of Mopey Violet Princes Club.**

“You are sooooooo out of the fucking EMVP Club!” Vriska hisses at Nepeta as you watch Eridan step out onto the balcony.

“Wait why??” Nepeta whines.

“Because our organization is a fucking support group for the broads who misfortune to land in a quadrant with the most miserable beanpole of a violet-blood the universe has ever seen,” Vriska explains, rolling her eyes. “You apparently didn’t date a miserable beanpole of a violet-blood so much as you spent the last eight months **fucking Orphaner Dualscar!!!!!!!!** ”

Equius gives the slightest shudder at the mention of his moirail’s “extra-quadratic romantic activity” but otherwise remains passive; casting an eye out towards the balcony. You all have been keeping an eye on Eridan all night as Karkat and Nepeta made the awkward, strained reintroductions. Only Tavros had really engaged Eridan since he’d arrived, though mostly asking after the notably absent juggalo more than anything else. Eridan (in typical Eridan fashion) was evasive and less than forthcoming and as soon as he was able he broke away from the group, stepping out onto the balcony and closing the door behind him as the whispering in the room rose a few decibels.

“Only has one scar on his face,” Nepeta mumbles, pressing the tips of her fingers together absently as Kanaya sympathetically pats her on the shoulder.

“Not the _fucking_ point, Nepeta!” Vriska snaps as Equius’ brow knits almost imperceptibly. “Ughhhhhhhh you’re like one of those old casino ladies who comes to the slot machines after everyone else sinks a small fortune into them and snags the fucking jackpot with a single coin.”

Jackpot might be a generous way of putting it; jury is still out on just how much of a prize Eridan actually is after all this time. Admittedly, he’s somewhat more…developed than he used to be but-

“How is that my fault?!” Nepeta protests, glancing at you as you shake your head, glancing back at Vriska as if to say _ask her_.

“It isn’t; good for you,” Vriska says, crossing her arms. “But you’re still out of the club!”

“You don’t reel-y want to be part of the club, Nepeta,” You chuckle softly. “Kind of a lame group to be part of if I’m being totally honest.”

“Keep talking that way and you’re next, Peixes,” Vriska mutters darkly. “I can be a club of one; just watch.”

“Fine! Keep your stupid MVPEYMCA club or whatever,” Nepeta huffs, crossing her arms as Equius lays a hand on her head reassuringly. “I’ll start my own club! The I…F…A…M…F…F…G… _Club_!”

“I…” You frown down at your fingers, counting on them and trying to puzzle out what Nepeta was trying to spell out. “The…what?”

“I’d spell it out for you but Equius will have a heart attack if I do,” Nepeta snickers as Equius frowns down at Nepeta.

“I don’t mean to intrude-” Kanaya says from her perch behind Nepeta.

“But you will no matter what we say,” Vriska says as Kanaya leans over and elbows her in the side.

“-but are we certain Nepeta is disqualified?” Kanaya asks, shooting a glance out the balcony door.

"Uh, _you_ were never in the club so I don't know why you think you got a say here, Maryam," Vriska snorts. "You can't just-" 

“Eridan seems to be…moping," Kanaya says, completely ignoring Vriska. "And his violet prince status was never really in question, was it?”

“Nah, that’s not moping; that's _brooding_ ,” Nepeta says with a wave of her hand.

"Oh...of course," Kanaya says, scratching the back of her neck. "Because there's a difference?"

“ _Moping_ is when you’re sad and you want everyone to pay attention to you; _brooding_ is when you don’t want anyone to pay attention to you,” Nepeta says with a nod. "Trust me on this."

“Goddamnit when did Eridan ever miss out on an opportunity to bask in the pity-pity of others?” Vriska snorts. “Not even conspicuously bellyaching to Karkat or Tavros or anything?”

“He’s been remarkably taciturn all evening,” Kanaya adds, cocking her head to one-side with a small frown. “Hmm…perhaps Nepeta is indeed ineligible for the Miserable Fish Boy Ex League.”

You let out a small, shaky laugh as Equius lightly paps the sides of a fuming Nepeta’s cheeks.

“Oh my god are you hens still dishing over here like a bunch of fucking six-sweepers?” Karkat sighs, coming down the stairs behind you with Terezi trailing behind him.

“Hens?” Equius says, raising an eyebrow at Karkat.

“You’re an honorary hen, Equius,” Nepeta sniggers, poking Equius in the side.

“Buncha chickens is what you are,” Karkat says, crossing his arms. “You’re not being as subtle as you fucking think you are; you know that right?”

“Vriska doesn’t know how to be subtle,” Terezi chuckles. “Girl has the stealth skills of a blind hoofbeast.”

“You would know about blind hoofbeasts, wouldn’t you Terezi?” Vriska shoots back as Terezi clutches her chest, feigning a swoon against the staircase.

“Oooh blind jokes! You _wound_ me with your razor sharp wit,” Terezi gasps, clutching at Karkat’s arm. “Karkat, stop her before she unleashes the dreaded “ _I know you are but what am I_?”

“Why don’t you direct some of that cheeky banter Eridan’s way?” Karkat says to Vriska who shrugs. “You see these clowns on a bi-yearly basis at least but you haven’t spoken to Purple Rain over there in six thousand years. Don’t at least want to get some cheat sheets for your history exams?”

“I could go another six thousand if we’re being honest,” Kanaya says softly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not you too,” Karkat sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me you’re still bitter about that frivolous shit?”

“What _frivolous shit_?” Kanaya says, raising an eyebrow. “The _frivolous shit_ where I had a hole punched in my stomach? That _frivolous shit_?”

Karkat looks a little admonished as Kanaya stands up, brushing her skirt off. You are constantly in awe of how she can command the attention of everyone without raising her voice.

“I’m not bitter,” Kanaya clarifies, heading down the stairs a little before turning around to face Karkat. “Hard to stay bitter when the proverbial score has long since been evened twofold. But just because I’ve chosen to forgive and move on doesn’t mean I really feel like shooting the breeze with Eridan right now. Maybe not ever but…that’s up to me, isn’t it?”

Kanaya’s eyes linger on you for a moment and you feel suddenly on the spot for a decision you don’t really feel ready to make just yet. She turns and sashays away as you shoot a glance out the window where Eridan is still staring out over the ocean. He’s completely alone but…what the holy _shell_ would you even say to him even if you decided to go out there? Nepeta’s tangled thread analogy has never been more apt as you don’t even know where to begin…or even if you want to right now. Because Kanaya, you realize, is right. You don’t have to forgive or even make pleasantries with Eridan if you don’t feel like it. It’s up to you, like Kanaya said and if you want to go the next hundred years without seeing or speaking to him well that’s just fine too!

…except for the fact that you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t at least say something to him before the night is out.

**> >Eridan: Firth Your Violet Ass Off**

You’re not _firthing_ thank you very much! You’re simply admiring the view from the balcony outside the common room…completely alone.

_Firthing_ would imply that you’re being broody, aloof, and mysterious in the hopes of attracting one of the ten trolls inside but right now you don’t feel anything remotely resembling attraction towards any of them.

Fear, uncertainty, and just a touch of that old Ampora Paranoia but...not attraction.

And you’re more than confident that none of them feel anything resembling attraction towards you either. Wolves in flocks of sheep have been received better than you have here but you can hardly blame their furtive glances and hushed whispering that seemed to evaporate whenever you approached the small circles of clustered cliques. You have avoided Feferi since you first saw her but you catch her watching you out of the corner of your eye for the past hour or so.

You figured you’d give them all a chance to whisper behind your back with a little bit of privacy...that and you were getting a little sick of lying to Tavros for no good reason.

To be honest, you really question why Karkat kept this all a secret for so long as though springing all this on everyone at the last minute would somehow lessen the impact. You knew he hadn’t told anyone from the look Feferi gave you down in the docks; maybe she wouldn’t even be here if she had known you were coming but she was as good as absent anyway. At least where you were concerned.

**> >Eridan: Consider leaving.**

Not the worst of ideas to be honest. Dusk is rolling in fast but you could still probably hit Sydney by morning at the very least; spare everyone the awkwardness of having to put up with you for the rest of the week.

The door clicks open behind you and you feel a warm gust of air wash over your back. You feel a small shiver run down your spine as you can’t quite bring yourself to look behind you on the offchance that Feferi is standing there to-

“If you’re thinking of jumping, for the love of fuck, please get a little higher up so you don’t accidentally survive,” A familiar lisping voice comes from behind you.

You almost laugh; partly in relief and partly because Sollux will always be Sollux no matter how many years pass. Then again, from his perspective, barely any time has passed at all. You don’t bother to turn around as he leans on the railing at the furthest edge of the balcony.

“Accidentally survivin’ is my forte, Sol,” You chuckle, taking a sip of the dark liquid swirling around in your glass. “No matter how high I jump from I always manage to walk away~”

“Well aren’t you cheery?” Sollux says, crossing his arms and leaning on the balcony behind him. “Glad you came all this way to lighten the mood around here; we were having such a miserable time until you showed up.”

“Always happy to be the life of the party,” You say, raising your glass as you roll your shoulders to look at him. God did you use to hate the shit out of that little bugger but you can’t remember why for the life of you. If your time spent fused together in a single body taught you anything, it was that you couldn’t even begin to hate Sollux as much as he hated himself sometimes. 

“So…” You prod.

“So _what_?” Sollux replies.

“So you didn’t just come out here to admire the lovely sunset,” You say. “Bee in your bonnet, Sol?”

“Ha-fucking-ha,” Sollux deadpans. “Bee jokes; how original."

“Got a million of them,” You say with a humorless wink as Sollux shifts in his seat, fixing you with a curious expression.

“Okay…what are you doing?” Sollux asks after a moment.

“Drinkin’,” You reply simply, taking another sip. “It’s a phenomenon where you pour liquid into your mouth and swallow, usually more than once, in order to finish a particular beverage. “

“No, _asshole_ , what are you doing _here_?” Sollux says.

“…drinkin’,” You repeat, lips twitching at the snort of frustration that brushes past Sollux’s teeth. “It’s a phenomenon where-“

“Why. Are you on. This island. Right now?” Sollux says through gritted teeth. “And if you say “because I sailed here on a boat” I am going to push you off the fucking balcony whether you die or not.”

“You really want to know?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes, the suspense is fucking killing me,” Sollux says.

“You’re not gonna believe me,” You sing-song, turning away to face the setting sun.

“Try me,” Sollux says.

“Alright it’s…because I’m madly in love with you, Sol,” You say, resisting the urge to snicker when a strangled gasp comes from behind you. “I’ve laid awake for thousands of nights dreamin’ of the day we’d finally be reunited and when Kar invited me I knew it would be my chance to be reunited with the only troll I’ve ever loved. Truly…deeply…sincerely loved.”

You turn around and nearly lose it at Sollux’s look of baffled disgust. His cheeks are dark gold and his eyes are bulging out of his sockets as his mouth curls back into a disbelieving snarl as you finally let out the snort of laughter you’ve been holding

“Fine,” Sollux groans, pushing himself off the railing. “Be a fucking smartass.”

“Better than bein’ a fuckin’ dumbass at least,” You say, wiping your eyes as Sollux glares at you over the rim of his glasses. “Is it _so_ hard to believe that I wanted to see my old friends again?”

“What _friends_?” Sollux snorts. “You don’t have any friends here except KK and your ex-kismesis and even _they_ aren’t out here talking to you.”

“ _You_ are though,” You say, waggling a finger at Sollux. “Come on, Sol, don’t be so damned coy; just admit you came out here to talk to me because you missed me.”

“Yeah I missed you like I miss getting cluster headaches," Sollux says. “Look I just…I don’t know why you’re here now of all fucking times-"

"Do we need to have the drinkin' conversation again?" You chuckle.

“Just…leave FF alone, okay?” Sollux says tersely, eyes locking with your sternly. You raise an eyebrow at Sollux, setting your glass on the balcony and folding your arms.

“Thought that’s what I was doin’,” You say. “Been givin’ her a wide berth since I got here; you see me rockin’ her boat?”

“You _being here_ rocks our fucking boats,” Sollux says, putting his hands on his hips. “Hers most of all. I know KK’s got this fucking fantasy where we’re all going to hold hands and sing Kumbaya but-“

“I literally told him the exact same thing,” You sigh, scratching the back of your neck.

“And yet _here_ you are,” Sollux says, gesturing to you.

“Well, you know me; never been one to pass up a perfectly horrible idea,” You say with a small shrug.

“Just make sure you keep your bad ideas to yourself while you’re here,” Sollux snaps. “And if you do anything to hurt FF I’ll…I’ll make you wish you stayed in fucking London.”

“Okay…one, I will be dead and buried before I wish I was in London,” You say holding up a finger. “I would wish to be spit roasted by thorny bulged demons in the deepest pits of hell before I would wish to be in London _."_

"Wish hard enough; maybe that one will come true," Sollux replies.

“ _Two_ ,” You say, extending another finger. “As you are not the last survivin’ fuchsia-blooded troll in the universe, I don’t think you got much right dictatin’ who the one-time princess does and doesn’t associate with.”

“Oh sooooorry; forgive me for trying to keep my friend’s murderer from ruining her fucking vacation,” Sollux huffs, eyes sparking involuntarily.

“I’m not out to ruin anyone’s fuckin’ vacation,” You say, brow twitching in spite of yourself. “I’m here because Kar invited me and if my existence harshes your buzz so much-“

“It does,” Sollux says flatly.

“-I’ll keep to my side of the island,” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “But Feferi can do what she fuckin’ pleases and if she wants to tell me to fuck off, believe me I’m gonna be gone faster than a bottle of red at an Italian family reunion.”

You almost wish Feferi would come out to tell you to fuck off so you can have some kind of pretense to extract yourself from this horribly awkward situation. At least then you can finally know where you stand with her and spend the rest of eternity comfortably on the other side of the planet.

The uncertainty is really what’s eating you right now mainly because you’ve always been adept at imagining scenarios more horrifying than reality could ever manage.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sollux sniffs.

“I’m sure you will,” You sigh, tapping a finger against your empty glass. “Don’t suppose you feel like topping me off if you’re goin’ in there, do you? Two shots of El Dorado, half a can of Coke, twist of lemon?”

“Blow me,” Sollux growls, turning as the door sides open and he nearly runs nosefirst into Terezi, nearly spilling her drink in the process.

“Sollux, _please_ I have a matesprit now,” Terezi snickers, fanning her face. “You can’t just ask me to _blow you_ ; I’m an honest woman!”

“Excuse me, he was telling _me_ to suck his bulge, thank you very much,” You say, waving over the top of Sollux’s head. “Form an orderly queue and let his matesprit know he’s been makin’ all kinds of improper advances towards me all night.”

“Seriously; fuck yourself,” Sollux deadpans, turning back to Terezi. “You need something?”

“Karkat needs help with his projector thingie,” Terezi says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “It’s making this weird spluttering noise and shocked Vriska when she bumped up against it.”

"Sounds like it's working fine to me," Sollux snorts.

"Be that as it may, he needs some techie input pronto or he's going to have a fit on a stick," Terezi snickers.

“Needs a new projector is what he- _wait_ …oh my god, did he make another powerpoint presentation?” Sollux snickers.

“He’s been working on it for the last week and a half,” Terezi giggles as you wonder what the hell they’re talking about. “Spoiler alert; _he discovered the transition button_.”

“Oh fuck yes!” Sollux cackles, brushing aside Terezi and heading into the house as though Father Christmas was waiting for him with a new . “This vacation just got so much better!”

Sollux leaves you standing on the balcony and for a moment, you swear you catch Feferi looking your way. But then again, she’s probably just checking to make sure Sollux is still in one piece since she quickly ducks her head inside the fridge when you glance her way.

**> >Eridan: Remember you aren’t alone.**

Terezi is still standing in front of you, effectively blocking your way back into the house even though heading back inside is the last thing on your mind right now. She’s looking (or not looking as it were) in your direction, brow furrowed and lips pursed ever so slightly as though she’s trying to divide 4137.20 by 27.14 in her head. A long, painful silence lingers between you as you don’t quite know what she wants from you.

You should probably say something to break the ice or something.

**> >Eridan: Okay, just don’t say anything stupid.**

“Lovely view, isn’t it?” You say to the blind woman.

The urge to throw yourself off the balcony (however pointless that may be) mounts by the second.

“If you say so,” Terezi says with a shrug, walking forward until she leaned against the balcony. Your hand reaches out for a moment as if to stop her before she walks off the ledge but snorts, shaking her head at your gesture. “I may be blind but I’m not _blind_ , you know?”

"Of...course?" You say, shoving your hands in your pockets. “My bad.”

“Relax; you're still not as bad as Karkat,” Terezi says, taking a sip of her drink. “Freaks out like a wriggler every time we walk down the street because I fell off _one_ dinky mountain that _one_ time-”

“You…fell off a mountain?” You ask, glad you can’t see the baffled look on your face.

“ _Slid_ down more like it,” Terezi rolls her eyes. “Took a wrong step off the trail outside Phoenix and fell a couple hundred feet into some jagged rocks. Hurt like a bitch and a half and heard Karkat screaming all the way down.”

“I bet,” You say a little uneasily.

“You know what the darndest thing is?” Terezi says, tugging her sleeve back to expose smooth grey skin. “Didn’t have a scratch on me! Clothes look like they got tumble dried with a drone’s carapace but not so much as a drop of teal spilled.”

“Funny,” You say as Terezi turns her head in your direction, squinting at you curiously. “Probably already knew that nothin’ short of another one of us is going to be able to harm you, right?”

“I had my theories,” Terezi says noncommittally. “But you’re saying absolutely nothing short of another god’s hand is going to so much as scratch our hides?”

“Nothin’,” You say confidently. You should know; you’ve tried damn near everything.

“ _Iiinteresting_ ,” Terezi practically purrs, eyes narrowing in your direction. “If that’s the case then...where oh where did that scar across your face come from?”

Your throat tightens and it’s all you can do to keep your breathing from running away from you. Goddamn but you are stupid sometimes; did you really think that Terezi was coming out there to catch up with you? Revisit old memories? Enjoy the nice view? Of course she had a question or two for you; she must’ve been listening in when you were trying to dodge Tavros’ questions about Gamzee.

What are you going to do?

**> >Eridan: Abscond.**

You suppose you could leap from the balcony, take a swan dive into the water and make it to your boat before Terezi pieces everything together. After that it’s a simple matter of sailing home, grabbing everything you can carry, moving to Alaska and waiting until the heat-death of the universe erases any trace of this horribly awkward situation.

That could work, right?

**> >Eridan: Be cool.**

“Cut myself shavin’,” You say, damning your voice for hitching ever so slightly.

“Oh really?” Terezi drawls, swirling her drink around. “Is one of your magical hope powers the ability to grow facial hair?”

“If I hope hard enough I can,” You chuckle a little nervously. “Accidents happen, you know?”

“I know,” Terezi said, lips curling into a feline smile. “Like when Vriska tried to pierce her own belly button and totally tore it off on accident.”

“Really?”

“ _No_ ,” Terezi says, turning to face you as she leans one elbow on the railing. “Kanaya had to do it for her because all the needles she was trying to use on herself kept bending. But the _second_ Kanaya picked it up, it went through Vriska like she was a regular person…if Vriska ever was a regular person.”

“Funny,” You say, turning away from her blind gaze.

“Funny _indeed_ ,” Terezi says. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“I’m takin’ the fuckin’ Fifth here,” You mutter.

“Please; in international waters, no one can hear you scream,” Terezi says, lips parting over a jagged smile. “I’m just curious as to who could have done your plastic surgery especially since…well…until about two years ago, you were one of two gods kicking around the planet.”

You realize your lips haven’t this dry in centuries and your fingers have all but bent the railing overlooking the cliffs.

"I...well...you see-" Alaska is starting to look mighty fucking promising right now but before you can calculate how far you need to jump to clear the rocks below-

_“Knock knock!”_

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Karkat sticks his head out the sliding glass doors.

“Hey, not that I’m against socializing at a fucking party but can we move it inside?” Karkat says, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Got shit to talk about and I’d like to do this while we’re all still remotely resembling sober.”

You could have kissed the little bugger but that would have probably exacerbated things with Terezi who looks mildly disappointed but shoots you a wink that cannot possibly be misconstrued as anything other than “this isn’t over.”

You really wish you could be anyone else right now.

**> >Be Anyone Else Right Now.**

Your name is Cleg Peterson and you have to explain to your wife why there are $10,000 worth of teddy bears on your front lawn. Your children are flinging them at each other like screaming apes while your wife waits on the phone with customer services. Little do you know that a simple shipping error has placed you at the heart of the greatest international conspiracy since-

**> >BE SOMEONE ELSE WHO IS RELEVANT TO THE PLOT.**

You are once again Feferi Peixes who is not currently embroiled in any international conspiracies whatsoever. You almost wish you _were_ though since that has to be better than listening to another one of Karkat’s “debriefings."

"...and then David Hasslehoff sang on top of the broken wall," Karkat says, flicking the slide over to see an image of a curly haired human man standing on top of a broken wall with people and trolls dancing around him. "And thus, communism was over forever after that, I guess." 

It apparently hasn’t sunk in for him that the ~~twelve~~ eleven of you actually enjoy spending time with one another and the pretense of “ex-Alternian debriefing” has worn so thin that you can see through it. He could just as easily invite everyone up for a fun relaxing weekend but noooooooooooo he has to cloak it in layer upon layer of pretense like some kind of ceremonial puff pastry.

Admittedly, he is fairly adorable in a small plush animal sort of way, standing behind a podium (he was _so_ upset last year when he realized that Jade’s former house didn’t have anything resembling a podium to stand behind) as the projector hums next to him. The ten of you are all arranged around the living room, squished into chairs and perched on furniture as Karkat’s rambling speech goes on and on and on and _on_ through topics ranging from history ("The Spanish Inquisition or How Vriska's Fucking Typos Got People Killed") to politics ("Who the Fuck is Kate Middleton and Why Should I Fucking Care? ( _Note: Caring is completely optional_ )") to cultural nuances that have developed over the centuries ("On Chavs.")

You are squished into a loveseat with Sollux on the other side of Aradia. Vriska had updated the drinking game rule list before Karkat began his presentation but barely five minutes in and you realized that, immortal or no, you were going to drink yourself to death if you kept playing by Vriska’s rules. Already Tavros looks a little squeamish, rocking back and forth on the arm of the couch as he takes three sips of his drink in quick succession (one for “fuck” being used creatively, one for a hastily drawn diagram wedged in between row upon row of text, and one for a gratuitous transition effect). Vriska has stretched out across the sofa, head in Kanaya’s lap and fiddling with her phone. She must be playing something with Nepeta who looks down at her phone every few moments with a small grumble that has Equius shoosh her quietly from his seat next to her.

The only one not seated is Eridan. Predictably, he’s leaning against the wall off to the side, slouching like he thinks it makes him look tall, brooding, and mysterious or something. Ironically, the troll who has been on your new world the longest is the only one paying attention to Karkat’s sermon, eyes never leaving Karkat’s slides as he continues to sip on that inky black paint thinner he brought with him.

“Alright next up we have...Vriska, are you even paying attention?” Karkat snaps, drawing your attention back to the front.

“Yep,” Vriska says nonchalantly, not even looking up from her phone.

“Really?” Karkat says, leaning on the podium and glaring at Vriska in the dark. “You want to tell me what I just fucking said about David Hasslehoff then?”

“I _said_ I was paying attention,” Vriska said, waving her phone at Karkat. “Didn’t say I was paying attention to _you_.”

“Oh god, here we go,” Sollux sighs as Karkat switches the projector off, flicking the lights back on and scowling at the crowd of disinterested faces.

“Do you people think I fucking enjoy putting together immensely detailed presentations on the history and nature of a world we’ve been fucking absent from for the last two thousand-seven hundred and sixty nine sweeps?” Karkat demands.

“Yes,” Equius says flatly as Sollux and Nepeta fail to contain derisive snorts. “What? You seem to be extremely enthusiastic about your…ah…informational seminars."

“Let me rephrase then,” Karkat says, shooting Equius a look that could boil a pot of lobsters. “Do you people think I fucking enjoy putting together immensely detailed presentations on the history and nature of a world we’ve been fucking absent from for the last two thousand-seven hundred and sixty nine sweeps _and not have anyone listen to me when I present it?"_

"I was listening," You offer, raising a hand halfheartedly. "And...I think Tavros was too?"

"Yep!" Tavros hiccups from his seat, raising his glass and promptly tumbling backwards off the sofa onto the carpet.

"I would swear to _god_ right now but there isn’t a divine ass here worth swearing to except mine…and Terezi’s,” Karkat groans, burying his face in his hands.

“Aww, you think my ass is divine?” Terezi coos as Karkat squeaks something into his hands. "That's sweet~"

“KK we know you and TZ just started dating but if you're gonna start talking about her ass all the time I’m gonna have to bail,” Sollux snickers, dodging a pillow a completely crimson Karkat whips across the room at mach speeds.

“Can I bail for unrelated reasons?” Vriska says, raising her hand from the couch. “I’m not really bothered by all the ass talk; I just don’t want to hear this anymore.”

“Well, at least you’re upfront about your laziness,” Kanaya sighs.

“I respect Karkat faaaaaaaar too much to lie to him,” Vriska says, stifling a yawn. “ _You_ weren’t paying attention either, _Carmilla_ , so don’t even act like you were.”

“You know, it’s a pretty sad fucking state of affairs when you miserable lot can’t be bothered to look up from your fucking cell phones to learn something about a universe you helped fucking create,” Karkat grumbles.

“Oh god, I think my bio professor said the same thing last week,” You giggle to Aradia.

“He does seem to be taking to this like a proverbial fish to water,” Aradia chuckles. “Have you ever considered a career as a teacher, Karkat?”

“Why not; I’m dealing with braindead teenage nooksuckers already I might as well get paid for it,” Karkat grumbles.

"You wouldn't have to if you would _literally_ come down from your soapbox and enjoy our company like a regular person," Nepeta chimes in.

“You seriously want me to stop?” Karkat asks.

“Yes,” Vriska  says immediately.

"You really want me to just put all this away and just dick off for the rest of the week?"

"Oh my god, _yes_ ," You say.

"And you _really_ all feel this way?" Karkat says, scanning the room.

"Yes!" Nepeta says.

“ _ **TOO FUCKING BAD!**_ ” Karkat crows to a chorus of groans, flicking the lights off as Vriska practically melts into the couch in dismay. “We’re moving on to Religious Artwork or Why Do These People Seem To Think I’m A Basic Pasty Human?”

As if to prove his point, the screen dissolves into a wintery landscape that draws a strangled squeak of indignant frustration from Eridan who is glaring at the picture on the screen like it was a dog that just devoured his favorite shoes. It takes you a minute to realize why he’s so upset; the floating, ethereal figure in the center of the frame appears to a blonde haired, blue eyed human man squeezed into the billowing robes of the Prince of Hope.

“Oh…my…god,” Vriska sniggers, dropping her phone and sitting up to crane her neck backwards at a mortified looking Eridan.You try and stifle a giggle, grabbing a throw pillow and burying your face into it which only seems to worsen the dark purple flush spreading out over Eridan's fins.

“Eridan, why didn’t you tell us you were a model?" Vriska sniggers, craning her neck backwards to look at Eridan "And apparently a basic white guy in disguise?"

“Oh, are you suddenly interested in art, Vriska?”Karkat asks, leaning over the edge of his podium.

"I am if it's the Eridan-In-Stupid-Tights-Show," Vriska sniggers as Eridan buries his face in his glass.

"Oh, well, then you're going to _love_ this next part," Karkat cackles, flipping the slide to show a much older, cruder drawing that draws a hoot from Sollux on the on the other side of the couch. It appears to be a malicious image of an eight-armed Vriska leering menacingly as her features are distorted compared to the demure and stalwart trolls opposite her in the image. The image shows Vriska angular and menacing with an exceptionally long nose, bright red eyes, and tongue hanging out of a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth as she pushes a small child over a cliff with one of her long arms.

“Hey, what the _fuck_ is this?!” Vriska squeaks, sitting up and glaring at the screen. “What’s the meaning of this shit?!”

“Oh this?” Karkat says innocently, checking his notes. “Oh nothing; this is just a painting from the early-Sengoku period in the rinpa style. It shows the noble hero Genji doing battle with the luck stealing, web-shitting spider demon who is plaguing the village and apparently pushing wrigglers off cliffs for fun.”

“Oh that’s buuuuuuuullshit!” Vriska spits. “When have I ever done anything like that?!”

“Uh…” Tavros kicks his legs off the edge of the couch conspicuously, blowing across the top of his bottle.

“ _One_ _time_!” Vriska huffs. “ _One time_ I push someone off the cliff and paralyze them and I’m crazy Japanese spider-demon witch forever?! How is that fair?!”

“Evidently you made an impression,” Kanaya says as you give up on trying to contain your laughter, shaking with quiet giggles as Vriska rounds on Eridan.

“What the fuck have you been telling people about me?!” Vriska demands as Eridan holds his hands up defensively, shrinking against the wall as Vriska advances. “You’ve been spreading all kinds of fucked up rumors about us while you’ve been here, haven’t you?!”

“I think you’re overestimatin’ my influence in the artistic community, Vris,” Eridan says, lips twitching in spite of Vriska’s murderous gaze. “Or do we need to revisit _John Everyman_ _, Prince of Hope_ from the first slide? I think if I had that much fuckin’ influence I might have used it to ensure ninety-five percent of my portraits got my _species_ right at the very least.”

“Bullshit!” Vriska insists. “How come _you_ get to be all glowy and noble and shit while I’m the web shitting spider witch, huh?!”

“ _You_ were the one who said we needed to leave behind a record of our sessions,” You point out from the couch, eyes briefly making contact with Eridan’s for a brief moment. “ _Extensive records of our heroic deeds for the baaaaaaaabies that we leave behind._ ” Big leatherbound book you, Rose, and Nepeta left behind as some kind of religious text? Any of that ring a bell?"

"Apparently the Pupa Pan incident stuck out,” Aradia says softly, taking a sip of her tea as Vriska shoots her a dirty look.

“Speaking of which,” Karkat says, changing the image and the subject. A small cheer goes up from everyone but Vriska as the projector screen shows a multi-armed blue-blooded Tavros, sitting peacefully under a tree and surrounded by animals.

“Goodness,” Equius coughs, scratching the side of his head as Tavros rocks back and forth in his seat with a slightly embarrassed grin on his face.

“Yeah, guess what; Pupa Pan was big in India about three thousand years after we went to sleep,” Karkat says, a little smug that he managed to get everyone’s attention back so easily. “Protector of animals was big back then…although apparently always a blue-blood for some inane reason.”

“Ten boonbucks to whoever can guess the artist’s blood-type,” Eridan snorts, balking a little as he finds everyone’s attention turned on him. “…and this is just in the early colonial era when the Brits were goin’ around shovin’ their noses in everyone’s business. Crown started um…comissionin’ artists to reinvent classic folk heroes in a more regal light. Older stuff’s got Tav all over the spectrum.”

Eridan trails off, taking another sip of his drink as he looks almost embarrassed. You never thought Eridan would be your ticket to an A in any art classes you have to take…that is, if the two of you are even on speaking terms in the future.

“Huh…I’m not sure if I should be offended,” Tavros muses, tilting his head at the screen. “I mean…on the one hand I guess they got some stuff right but-”

“What happened to not influencing the art world?” Vriska snorts at Eridan.

“Didn’t influence it,” Eridan mumbles. "Just cracked a book or two every couple hundred years; you should try it sometime."

“I’m sorry; do you want to lead this lecture?” Karkat says, waving the remote clicker at Eridan.

“And rob you of the pleasure?” Eridan shakes his head. “By all means, continue.”

“Thank you,” Karkat says, flickering to the next slide which shows a mish mash of strange pieces of art from who knows where including what is apparently a nude portrait of a violet version of yourself emerging from a clamshell in the middle of the surf.

“Now if we had done like me, Feferi, Rose, and Equius had suggested and ruled these short-sighted wrigglers like proper god-emperors, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Karkat said as the collective exasperated sighs from ten trolls sound like party balloons deflating. “Oh, sure, groan all you want but if we were here to make sure these idiots didn’t start killing one another like mating hoofbeasts in heat then we wouldn’t have the problem of being so poorly represented in the artistic community. I mean holy fuck, most people think it’s a fucking sacrilege to depict Equius at all; how the fuck are they supposed to know it’s him once we make our comeback? How can we not-”

Instantly, there is a groan from most of the trolls in the room at the mention of the word "comeback." You stifle a sigh of disappointment as Eridan looks around properly confused.

“Oh my _god_ not this shit again,” Sollux groans, getting up from the couch.

"Yes, _this_ shit again!" Karkat snapped.

“Karkat please for once give it a rest,” Nepeta sighs, shaking her head.

“I’ll give it a rest when you all dig the sopor out of your ears and figure out that this is the best case fucking scenario,” Karkat insists. “You all know The Comeback is the only fucking solution to this horrible mess we left behind!”

"Is it, Karkat?" Aradia asks. " _Is_ it?"

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eridan holds up his hand, frowning at Karkat. “I'm a little lost here; what comeback?”

“There _is_ no comeback,” Kanaya sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“There is _totally_ a fucking comeback!” Karkat insists, turning to Eridan. “There _needs_ to be a fucking comeback! Isn’t that right, Eridan?”

Everyone turns to Eridan who’s discarded his drink and Karkat who crosses the living room to stand two feet in front of him.

“Look…back in the day, me and the other three  _sensible_ gods said we needed to stay to make sure our creations didn’t screw the proverbial barkbeast and start derailing all our hard fucking work,” Karkat sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But we got outvoted so I settled for leaving that book behind so that people would hopefully know how important it is that they don’t be raging dickwhistlers to each other while we were gone. Two years ago we come back to the fact that this planet is fucking sick. No, it’s fucking dying. I didn't want to come back to genocide, global warming, and terrible fucking sitcoms."

“ _You_ ,” Karkat says, pointing to Eridan who is looking at Karkat with dawning comprehension. “You lived with these people longer than any of us have been alive; you _know_ what kinds of idiots they are! I mean…fuck, what was the Spanish Inquisition about? A disagreement about how to correctly interpret our oh-so-holy bullshit. People fucking died from that, right? How many stupid fucking wars have there been throughout history that might have been abated if the creators of the fucking cosmos descended from on high to deliver a sociopolitical shooshpap?”

“So what choice do we have but to reveal ourselves again?” Karkat says to everyone. “We put that fucking caveat in the book; “ _and one day, when the world is ripe, the gods shall return to Their creation to guide it into an age of glory or some shit like that"_. I don't know, I didn't write it...”

“So…you want us to reveal ourselves,” Eridan says slowly. “To the masses. As gods. To…what? Rule the world?”

“ _Guide_ the world,” Karkat clarifies, turning to you. “Feferi, help me out here; please explain to him why the comeback needs to-”

“God, FF, don’t tell me you _still_ buy into this bullshit too?” Sollux groans as you feel Eridan’s gaze turn to you in confusion.

“I’m not saying we have to rise out of the sea on magical flying dolphins, declaring our awesome godly nature for the whole world to see,” You say diplomatically. “But...we created them; the trolls and the humans and all the living things who call this planet home. Made them up all over again from the muddled chum of two universes. Aren’t we responsible for what happens to them? I mean, why shouldn’t the strongest beings in the universe look after the weakest?"

"Other than it being a waste of fucking time?" Sollux demands, earning a scowl from your end of the couch. "And presumptuous as fuck?"

"I don't seeing you calling parents _presumptuous_ for sending their children to school," You reply.

“You want me to sign off on this, I expect?” Eridan says suddenly, glancing at Karkat with a mildly wounded look. “That why I got invited out here? To be the swing vote?”

“No!” Karkat insists. “Look, I might have wanted to float this idea out there after it got shot to pieces last time we got together but I seriously-”

“Because I think it’s a great idea,” Eridan says suddenly as the rest of the room groans in disgust.

“Oh god damnit,” Vriska groans, tugging at her hair.

“Of course he fucking votes to flex his godly muscles!” Sollux sighs, heading into the kitchen just off the living room. “Who else is surprised?”

“Oh shut up; you’re just jealous that someone else besides Equius and Feferi is on board with this,” Karkat crows a little smugly. Equius looks as pleased as a blue block of granite can look but something is bothering you; some shriveled little shred of your friendship with Eridan is sending off warning signals.

“You seriously think this is a good idea?” You ask Eridan.

“Why not?” He shrugs. “Kar’s right; world needs a little of that good old Alternian leadership to keep themselves from killin’ each other and the planet we worked so fuckin’ hard to create.”

“Thank you!” Karkat says.

"For their own good," Eridan nods. "Kids and schools; like Feferi said."

“So I imagine the mind control device is comin’ along smoothly,” Eridan asks, taking another sip of his drink as Karkat scowls at Eridan in confusion.

“What? What mind control device?” Karkat asks.

“The one you’re plannin’ on usin’ to make sure nobody ever does anythin’ to hurt themselves or other people ever again,” Eridan says casually. “How’s it work anyway; does Vris strap herself into a chair and manipulate everyone via radio waves or somethin’ or are we goin' with magic brainwashing pills?”

That little warning signal throbs again as you frown up at Eridan’s face. It takes you a moment but finally, you roll your eyes, sighing in disgust as Karkat still hasn’t caught up.

He's _screwing_ with you, the sarcastic little shrimp.

“Dude, _what_ fucking mind control device?” Karkat asks. “No one said shit about controlling people’s brains, we just want to-“

“Make sure no one acts contrary to your wishes,” Eridan says. “Right?”

“They’re good fucking wishes!” Karkat insists. “How is it bad that I want people to stop killing each other and destroying the planet like useless animals?!”

“It’s not!” Eridan said, holding up his hands. “Good plan; best goal. So about that mind control machine-“

“We don’t need to fucking control people’s brains you weird Scottish asshole,” Karkat shoots back.

“Irish,” Eridan snips. “And yeah; you want complete and total world peace? You want no one to ever hurt anyone and for everythin’ to be fuckin’ perfect? Can’t have that and free will at the same time.”

"So I take it that's a fucking _no_ from the Ampora school of thought?" Karkat growls. Everyone, even Sollux is frowning thoughtfully at Eridan as he starts pacing anxiously.

“Come on, what fuckin’ good is comin’ out to the world gonna do?” Eridan asks. “You left em that little book of stories and morals before you all took your nap. You know how long it took for them to start arguin’ about it? Two fuckin’ days. We had _two_ fuckin’ days of world peace before people started pickin’ your books apart, arguin’ over the fuckin’ wordin’, splittin’ into camps based on who did or didn’t believe that the Heir of Breath had a thing for the Thief of Light.”

“Spoiler alert; he tooooooootally did,” Vriska sing songs.

“Maybe we wouldn’t _have_ had that problem if we stayed behind and corrected them when they started fucking up!” Karkat says defensively. “And if we come out today-“

“We’re just gonna give people more shit to argue about,” Eridan fires back. “Everythin’ is gonna get picked apart. Everythin’ you say or do or buy or wear; even the way you say things or how you fuckin’ stand.”

“You’re overreacting; as usual,” Karkat says, putting your own thoughts into words.

“Am I?” Eridan asks. “You see them fuckin’ tabloid magazines in the stores? Page after page of why Justin Whoeverthefuck is in love with Sally Whogivesashit because he wore a shirt once looked like a shirt that he wore in a picture with Ms. Whogivesashit back when they hosted last year’s Christmas special. Now picture that but with actual fuckin’ significance. They’ll go to war over how you part your hair and how you butter your toast and before you think they won’t I got two words for you; Spanish Inquisition.”

“I cannot fucking believe after _all_ this time, _all_ the shit you’ve seen, and you still think these people have their shit together!” Karkat groans, tugging at his hair. “You of all people-”

“Oh I _never_ said they had their shit together; believe me, no one is better acquainted with how little they have their shit together than I am,” Eridan laughs bitterly. “Their shit is dispersed in an uneven and haphazardly strewn about manner that can’t in any way be mistaken for _together_ but the _last_ fuckin’ thing they need is for a bunch of fops in tights and capes to show up out of the sky and start telling them how to behave themselves. Because they will either tell us to get fucked or _worse_ start doin’ whatever we tell them to do and start killin’ the ones who decided to tell us to fuck ourselves in step one.”

"I'm sorry this is _seriously_ rich coming from _you_ of all people," Karkat snaps, grabbing his clicker and burning through the slides until the projector landed on another slide of Eridan, standing over a young woman, armored and holding a sword with a serenely sad expression on his (completely inaccurate) face. " _Someone_ has been popping his head up over the years and revealing himself to people, hasn't he?"

Karkat clicks through a rapid succession of slides, showing Eridan (or someone who looks a lot like him) in various art styles from various different cultures, all showing Eridan protectively (or amorously) embracing multiple different people. Eridan's gaze flickers up to the screen for a brief moment before turning back to Karkat. 

"Case by case basis," Eridan mumbles, refusing to look at the screen depicting an old carving of Eridan's symbol over a troll prince of some kinds. "Didn't set myself up like a fuckin' king or anythin' because _that_ would be a fuckin' disaster of literal _Biblical_ proportions!"

_You don’t know that_ , you think to yourself.

**> >Feferi: Realize you said that last bit out loud.**

Karkat and Eridan turn to look at you as a small flush of fuchsia floods your fins. Tavros glances between the three of you and quietly excuses himself from the couch, slipping away as you falter for the briefest of moments.

“You don’t know that any of that is going to happen,” You press on as attention shifts to you. “Because _none_ of it has happened yet. I mean…maybe people got all in each other’s gills about the book we left behind but you don’t know that they wouldn’t respond well to some divine intervention right about now? You don’t know that they would tell us to go stick our heads in the sand or that they’d start another holy war even if we told them not to, right? You're passing up the chance to do some genuine  _good_ because you're worried about what people  _might_ do? Isn't that just as bad as doing nothing at all?"

Eridan stares at you for a long moment, jaw set and eyes flickering. It’s an expression that hasn’t changed with time and one you’ve seen so often before; it means “ _I heard you, Fef, but I’m not going to listen to a glubbing thing you just said_.”

Of all of Eridan’s looks, it is your least favorite.

“You’re right; I don’t know that,” Eridan mumbles, looking away. “But if we’re votin’ you know my answer.”

“Fine,” Karkat huffs, folding his arms. “By all means let’s just sit back and go to school and play grabass with each other while the universe we created destroys itself; great fucking plan everyone. Thanks for your input, Grand Elder Ampora.”

“If you were lookin’ for somethin’ to tip the scales in your favor, Kar, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Eridan says flatly.

“Oh, I’m not disappointed,” Karkat sniffs. “Maybe Gamzee’s thinkpan hasn’t rotted into useless slush by all his time spent on this miserable rock and maybe he’ll see the sense in all of this.”

Eridan gives a noncommittal grunt, shutting up almost immediately and slowly starts to wander into the kitchen. You think he’s going to refill his drink for the briefest moment before you recognize your second least favorite Ampora expression; one you always saw when he was trying to avoid revealing his latest doomsday project to you. When confronted with discomfort, the rare _eridanus amporum_ seeks to put as much distance between himself and the source of his discomfort as possible. In this case, you can’t help but notice there’s now an entire room separating him and Karkat who he’s regarding out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah but…Gamzee isn’t really here right now,” Tavros pipes up from behind your seat.

“Hasn’t been for the last two years,” Aradia chimes in but you’re not listening. You glance between Eridan and Terezi of all people who turned her sightless gaze upon him the minute talk of Gamzee came up. You remember watching them talk earlier but you couldn’t make out what they were saying...

“Neither was Eridan,” Nepeta adds. “Though he turned up in the end, didn’t he?”

“Yes, though Feferi and I went through a lot of trouble locating him,” Kanaya chimes in. Between her knowledge of space and your knowledge of life (coupled with your familiarity with Eridan) you managed to get a bead on Eridan at the last beach meeting after a lot of Faygo and searching. In fact, it was your suggestion to start looking in cold, grey places near the sea that narrowed the search down enough that you didn’t have to literally scan every single person on the planet.

You wish you could say you knew Gamzee that well if only for Tavros’ sake.

“Want to try another sweep?” You suggest, glancing at Kanaya who shrugs non-committedly.

“It would help if we had something to go on,” Kanaya says, fiddling with her skirt. “Anywhere he might have put roots down in the past would be a good place to start.”

“Yeah…maybe Eridan has some kind of idea?” Tavros says hopefully, glancing at Eridan who looks paler than he usually is.

“An idea?” Eridan echoes mutely, eyes apprehensively looking at Tavros. His gaze flits to Terezi who seems to be leaning forward in her chair, brow creased as though she expects an answer from Eridan that she doesn’t like.

“Shit, you must’ve bumped into him once or twice in all this time,” Karkat says. “Anywhere he liked to hang out on this side of things? Carnivals? Beaches? Anything?”

Eridan doesn’t look at Karkat. He looks at Tavros for a long moment with an unreadable expression on his face. It takes you a moment but you realize you’ve seen that expression on him exactly once before. You were three sweeps old and Eridan had made the mistake of telling you he didn’t know how to swim. So he lingered on the edge of the rocks, looking down at you with an expression both terrified and resolute; like he didn’t want to go through with it but knew that he couldn’t really back out either. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before he lets out a deep sigh, collapsing like a punctured balloon.

“Père Lachaise,” He says after a moment, words sticking in his throat as he downed the rest of his drink.

“God bless you,” Karkat says. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I can do better than give you a hint,” Eridan says, voice quivering a little. “I can tell you... _exactly_ where he is Père Lachaise.”

Tavros nearly falls off the couch in surprise, eyes gleaming as everyone turns to one another with mixed reactions. Nepeta tightens her grip on Equius’ arm, scooting a little until her smaller body seems to block Equius’ much larger frame, almost protectively. Vriska’s brow raises and you don’t miss the way she grasps Kanaya’s fingers on the couch beside her. Terezi looks somewhat perturbed while Karkat splutters indignantly for a few moments.

“Wait wait wait wait, time out! You knew where Gamzee was this whole fucking time and you didn’t say anything?!” Karkat squawks as Kanaya frowns, snatching Vriska’s phone away from her and typing something. “You didn’t think that was something that should be shared with the rest of the class?!”

“Never asked,” Eridan snorts bitterly.

“Of all the times to be a pedantic asshole-” Karkat groans.

“Maybe we should be looking on the bright side?” Tavros chirps, looking up at Eridan like his wriggling day and Twelvth Perigree’s Eve had come early this year. “We know where everyone is now. We just… just have to make contact with him, r-right?”

“I am sure Makara had a perfectly good reason for not wanting to reach out to us,” Equius says a little tersely. “And perhaps we should respect his wishes for privacy if that’s what he wishes.”

“Translation; let sleeping clowns lie,” Vriska snorted as Kanaya’s brow furrows deeper in confusion and concern. You feel like Tavros’ and Karkat’s enthusiasm is dampened by everyone else’s unease. Eridan is looking at Kanaya now as if he’s waiting for her to say something, fingers gripping the countertop as his ear fins flutter anxiously.

“I don’t understand,” Kanaya says after a moment. “The only Père Lachaise I can find is a…cemetery. In Paris.”

You swear the temperature in the room drops a degree or so as everyone looks between Kanaya and Eridan in confusion. Your heart is thudding in your ears as you try and read Eridan’s expression.

“That’s the one,” Eridan says. “Last place I saw him in about two hundred years or so ago.”

“Like…as a gravedigger or something?” Tavros asks as a look of horror slowly washes over Karkat’s face. “Well…he probably moved since then, right?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Eridan responds, tilting his head and grimacing a little. “Thing about dead people is they don’t tend to go very quickly, do they?”

Your stomach clenches as Sollux slowly gets to his feet on the other side of the couch. Equius’ jaw tenses as Vriska’s eyes have bulged to the size of saucers. Tavros looks confused for a moment.

“Wait…wait, are you saying that Gamzee is-” Tavros stammers.

“Not comin' to the next get together,” Eridan says bitterly. “To put it mildly.”

“Bullshit!” Karkat spits. “Don’t even fucking joke about crap like that you limey bulgegobbler! You know and I know and we all know that there isn’t a fucking thing on the planet that can fucking hurt us!”

“Where did the scar come from then?” You turn to see Terezi crossing her legs, leaning on her fist thoughtfully as she stares down at the floor. Karkat stares at his matesprit before turning slowly back to Eridan, staring at his face as though he just saw it for the first time.

“Excellent question,” Eridan says, suddenly the center of attention again. “See...did some experimentin' over the years and far as I can tell it's like this; nothin’ and no one we created is capable of hurting us and we created damn near everythin’ in the world. Believe me; I’ve been shot, stabbed, poisoned, thrown off a cliff, and trampled by hoofbeasts and nothin’ has so much as touched me because I reckon the world isn’t goin’ to rebel against those that created it…namely us.”

“But,” Eridan looks down at the counter, laughing humorlessly before looking back up, eyes glittering a little. “ _But_ …we didn’t fuckin’ create each other, did we? Nononono; _anyone_ from before the creation of the universe is still quite capable of harmin’ us; as evidenced by Vris’ new piercings.”

Vriska lifts her shirt, glancing down at her belly button and looking back up at Eridan in confusion.

“Didn’t have too much trouble gettin’ a needle through Vris’ skin, did you Kan?” Eridan asks, tilting his head back and forth. “Yeah…fuckin’ butter knife could kill any one of us if it was held in the hands of another god…”

**> >Feferi: Realize**

Oh…oh no.

You slowly rise off the loveseat, backing away from Eridan as realization slowly washes over you. He looks at you for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing his gaze but for the moment, you just want to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“Wait…what the fuck are you saying?” Sollux demands, stepping in front of Aradia.

“I am sayin’,” Eridan says slowly. “That Gamzee Makara is dead and buried in Paris, France...and I know this because I am the one who killed and buried him." 

There is a moment of pure, shocked silence as Eridan downs the rest of his drink…and then things go straight to hell in a handbasket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun
> 
> Dun
> 
> Dun
> 
> The proverbial cat is out of the proverbial bag. 
> 
> RE: Sollux's Lisp; I've never been a fan of phonetic accents (blame JK Rowling for killing that for me) so it's only going to show up if someone (Vriska) is mocking Sollux for it. I've always found it hard to read/write phonetic accents so just use your imagination. On the subject of accents I've always read Eridan with a pseudo-Irish accent thanks to a Lets Read I saw when I first got into HS so that explains his pervasive Irishness.
> 
> Next Chapter: Blood will be shed. Shoes will be thrown. Emotional balls will be bluer than they've ever been before.


	5. Without a Place to Go

_Paris in July is unbearable under the best of circumstances but there’s nothing like an angry mob to really turn a sticky summer day into a_ _blithering Frenchie clusterfuck_.

_Revolutionary sentiment runs through the streets alongside dirty, bloody water as you push your way through the crowd. You try to keep off the streets, clutching your blade to your side as you steal glances over your shoulder, keeping an eye out for a familiar unruly mop of hair and twisty pair of yellow horns. Normally, you’d feel comfortable in your ability to find your quarry across continents but everyone is out to see the head of the Committee of Public safety take the definition of irony to gory new levels and things are wound so tightly you're surprised they haven't snapped._

_Paris is an oil drum that’s been burning for years now and there’s nowhere else in the world Gamzee would be._

_The old fool is drawn to conflict like a moth to a bug-zapper on fire and there's conflict to spare around here. People in the square are calling for blood as you move unnoticed through their ranks, perhaps the only person not watching the man being led up to the National Razor. The rage here is almost palpable, acrid, and metallic; he is here. After Boston, you’d recognize that sensation anywhere. The sensation of mounting anger, disgust, and rage that feels like vomit rising in your throat._

_You look up into the window of a building overlooking the square…and then you see him for the first time in five years._

_His clothes are disheveled, his hair is a mess. You can almost smell the alcohol on his breath as he stares down with something akin to blank fascination at the man being propped up as the executioner reads the charges. You tug your hood over your eyes as, for a moment, you swear he caught sight of you. You are trying so very hard to believe that you are invisible but even though the crowd gazes through you as you pass, you could never sneak up on him that easily._

_You swear he sees you for a moment…then he looks away, back to the podium where the once proud man is being prepared for execution._

* * *

_“Hell of a way to die, ain’t it?” His voice rasps quietly as you close the door behind yourself. Before the revolution, the hotel was a posh, elegant establishment that the upper crust frequented, gorging themselves while the rest of the country starved. Now it is a wreck of its former self, gilded tables and chairs covered in dust, decay, and droppings like so much of the country._

_“You know they ran some kind of experiment or some shit with the guillotine?” He chuckles, leaning on the window frame as the guillotine’s razor raises higher and higher into the air. “Motherfucker slated for execution up and volunteered to see how long he could kick it after his head got taken off his shoulders and I shit you not, brother, he opened his eyes and shit after it rolled down the stairs…isn’t that just fucked up?  Got to look the motherfuckers in the eye for a couple seconds after they killed him."_

_"You don't say," You say, feigning interest in the conversation._

_"You know what the worst part is? Them motherfuckers who killed this dude didn't even put a newspaper or anythin' in the basket!" He snickers, teeth curling back over teeth that hadn't been brushed in years in a hollow, mechanical laugh. "...I mean shit if you're gonna whack a motherfucker like that the least you can do is make it a little comfortable, right? Give him somethin' nice to look at before he goes...I mean, shit, they didn't know he was gonna be alive after he lost a couple inches off the top there but still...”_

_He trails off, smile slowly slipping off his face as his eyes focus on the impending execution below. You say nothing, hand tightening on your blade as it slides from the sheath. The scar across your nose throbs with pain so close to the claws that put it there in the first place, aching more and more acutely as you approach him from behind._

_“Still...supposed to be a clean way to go though,” Gamzee muses, eyes staring straight down as you look out the window behind him. “Just…fwip. No fuss; no muss. No layin' out there writhin' in motherfuckin' agony or nothin'. I mean, sure, Maxie down there is gonna be alive in time to see all these gory motherfuckers cheer like crazed monkeys but…beats the shit out of crucifixion, am I right?”_

_“Anythin' beats the shit out of crucifixion you dumbass,” You say hoarsely, trying to will yourself to smile. “Cept maybe drawin’ and quartin’.”_

_“Shit man, why you gotta remind me of that horrible shit?” Gamzee shudders visibly. “What kind of sick motherfucker thinks of rippin' off someone’s junk and burnin' it in front of them before tearing them apart?”_

_“Dunno...some English prick I expect,” You chuckle bitterly._

_“Fuckin' English man,” Gamzee clucks, turning away from the window._

_"Fuckin' English," You agree, lapsing into what could pass for an amicable silence to an untrained observer. In reality, the seconds of relative quite between you feel longer and longer the longer the silence goes on._

_“Don’t suppose you feel like goin' back to London then,” He asks after a moment.  
_

_“No…had enough of London,” You say as he slowly turns around, passing you as he stumbles his way towards the door. The number of empty rum bottles littering the room suggest that he's off his goddamn rocker for the four millionth time which means you might actually pull this off.  
_

_“Boston then?” Gamzee says, turning back and shooting you a dreamlike smile as you tighten your grip on the knife under your coat. “We had some good times there, didn’t we?”_

_“Good times,” You echo stupidly, turning to face his back as he lingers at the threshold.  
_

_“Almost want to see Nassau again; see how shit has changed,” Gamzee says softly, glancing over your shoulder as the guillotine reaches its peak. “Lotta places we could go, right?”_

_“If we got the time,” You say, as the pair of you snort at a private joke that never seems to get old.  
_

_“Got nothing but time, brother,” He says, almost ruefully. "All the motherfuckin' time in the world..."_

_His eyes meet yours some three feet apart and he sighs a sigh that almost completely deflates him._

_"Fuckin' sucks...don't it?"_

_The guillotine falls and your knife is coated with dark purple blood. There is a great cheer from the crowd outside as you slam Gamzee into the wall, driving the blade deep into his heart as his eyes go wide, mouth falling open and lips splitting into the first genuine smile you can remember seeing from him in centuries.  
_

_He slides off the wall, rolling onto his back as he sinks down to the floor, reaching down and touching the tip of the handle sticking out of his chest with a wonky, crooked little smile._

_“You…you fuckin' did it…” He laughs, slumping against the wall as purple starts to pool behind his teeth. “You…mother…fuckin'…did…it.”_

* * *

  **> >Eridan: Duck**

**_WHAM!_ **

Oops, too late.

You’re almost impressed with the way Tavros manages to knock you into the fridge as his fist connects with your mouth hard enough that your head bounces against the metal door with a clang. Granted you’ve ploughed through enough booze to kill a mortal man so your reflexes are probably not the sharpest they’ve been in a while but you have to admit it’s impressive how he managed to clear the room and deck you before you finished your story.

You would be more impressed if he had not apparently broken his thumb in the attempt, falling back and clutching his hand with an angry hiss as he glares up at you.

“Not a bad cross, mate,” You say, fingertips gingerly touching the cut on your mouth where an inky well of violet is bubbling up. “Good follow through; good use of hips. Thumb goes on the outside of the hand though. Might want to work on that-”

“Eridan shut your _goddamn_ mouth for ten fucking seconds!” Karkat snaps, sliding over the top of the counter and getting between you and Tavros. Everyone is on their feet now, expressions of horror, disbelief, and disgust all burning holes into you from across the room. Even Nepeta and Karkat seem to be flabbergasted and almost betrayed.

You hate making them look like assholes for sticking up for you but they would have looked like bigger assholes if it got out that you were lying to them longer than you'd already lied...though technically it was only an omission of truth. 

“Let…ngh…let me **_go_** , Karkat!” Tavros snaps

“Let’s everybody take a minute and calm down before we all kill each other!” Karkat snaps, wrestling with Karkat.

“For some of us, that might more difficult than for others,” Sollux spits. “Let the record show that Sollux Captor’s gut instinct is right, as per usual and that the old saying about leopards and spots holds up!”

“Sollux, you can _double_ shut up!” Karkat snaps, arms wrapping around Tavros in a gesture that’s half comforting, half restraining. “Eridan. Talk. Now.”

“Thought I was supposed to be shuttin' my goddamn mouth,” You chuckle, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Everyone is on their feet and surrounding the kitchen, effectively trapping you against the fridge as they all wait for an explanation. Surprisingly...only Tavros, Sollux, and Karkat look remotely close to angry with you and you wager Sollux isn’t particularly broken up about the news of Gamzee’s demise. It's mostly shock and no small amount of fear.

You don't even bother to look Feferi's way.

Could you have said it in a better way? Maybe. But honestly, if you didn’t tell someone soon, you were going to rupture something and bleed more than you’re currently bleeding right now…wow, you forgot what it felt like to be injured. To be genuinely in danger of dying. Your heart races in spite of yourself, old survival parts of your brain waking up after a millennia of invincibility. Adrenaline surges through your veins for the first time in a long time and god _damn_ if you aren’t the tiniest bit thrilled right now.

...you consider (not for the first time) that there is something seriously wrong with you on an absolutely fundamental level.

“Well open your goddamn mouth and start fucking explaining yourself!” Karkat says, a flash of crimson welling up in the corner of his eyes. Oh yeah, you forgot what it was like to be such an unmitigated asshole too.

That doesn’t quite feel as good.

“What’s there to explain?” You say, shaking your head. “Was I not clear the first time? You want the gory fuckin’ details? Want to know what plot he’s at so you can leave flowers or somethin’?”

“You son of a-let me go Karkat!” Tavros hisses, wrenching against Karkat’s grasp. “Who cares what he has to say?!”

“Seconded,” Sollux snips, eyes crackling with electricity. “Douchescar over here’s just admitted to homicide number three; his word’s worth about as much as a two-dollar bill.”

To the best of your recollection, American two dollar bills were _technically_ worth something but most people didn’t accept them; not a bad analogy for your current situation.

“Why?!” Tavros hisses, bronze rivulets running down his face, all but kicking Karkat’s legs in an effort to break free. “Why…why did you do it?!”

“You want me to be honest?” You ask. “Or do you want the palatable answer?”

“Oh my god, _are you fucking joking right now?_ ” Karkat snaps. “No, we want you to jerk our bulges around like a softcore red-porn _**of course we want you to be fucking honest!**_ ”

“Well that puts me in a _right_ fuckin’ spot because if I’m _honest_ you’re just going to fuckin’ hit me again,” You laugh bitterly. “And…well you all seem to be ready to hit me again anyway so might as well save my fuckin’ breath.”

“No _fuck you_!” Karkat spits, jabbing a finger at you. “You don’t get to waltz in here after god knows how long, all drunk and generally depressing, and then tell us that we are now one egg short of a dozen without _**fucking explaining yourself!**_ ”

You wipe your lip on the back of a hand towel you pluck from the stove, staring down at it as you feign a casual air with all the grace of a fifth grade drama student. Someone who was booed off the stage of an original production of _Oedipus the King_ should know better than to try and act his way out of his problems.

“Well…the truth is…see Gam and I were havin’ an argument one day about what weighed more; a pound of bricks or a pound of feathers,” You stammer, shaking your head. “Now I said…I said they were both the same but he said the pound of feathers was going to fall slower. So naturally I had to stab him in the back to prove my-”

Tavros is fast; god does he put those legs to use throwing Karkat to one side and rushing you like a charging ( _hehe_ ) bull. Your head bounces off the oven as Tavros lifts you up off the ground and slams you into the stove so hard metal bends around you. Someone screams; was that Nepeta or Feferi?

“Okay…” You pant, looking down at Tavros’ expression of tortured anger as you wince in pain. “Okay I’m…I’m not replacin’ Harley’s stove. You all saw it; he slammed me- ”

“I-Is this…is this just a big f-fucking joke to you?!” Tavros splutters as Karkat stumbles to his feet again. “Do you enjoy just…just…screwing around with us like this?!”

“Really not enjoyin’ myself right now, Tav,” You grimace, glancing back at your left shoulder that seems to be a darker shade of violet than you remember. You squint curiously at the small piece of the stove shoved into your shoulder, getting a good look at the first thing that’s seriously wounded you in over six thousand years.

It was a bit of a downgrade from Kanaya’s chainsaw if you were being honest.

“Tavros, please calm your fucking tits for ten seconds!” Karkat says, rushing forward and tugging at Tavros’ arms ineffectually.

“Don’t tell the lad to calm his tits, Kar,” You mumble. “I’d say this is a proper fuckin’ reaction to meetin’ your mate’s murderer.”

“Eridan _please_ shut up!” Karkat demands.

“Talk; shut up. Talk; shut up,” You mumble, feeling a dull ache in the back of your head. “Make up your damn mind already, Kar.”

“Equius, give me a fucking hand over here!” Karkat grunts, trying to disengage Tavros’ arms. Equius, for his part, stays still as a statue, expression hidden behind his shades as he watches the scene unfold before him.

“Tavros, please there has to be a fucking explanation for this!” Karkat pleads, trying to tilt Tavros’ murderous glare away from you.

“There is,” You chime in. “The explanation is “I could not allow Gamzee Makara to see the 1800's ali-"

Your vision swims as Tavros’ grip slackens enough to drive his fist into your face, catching you under the eye and causing your vision to swim. He seems to have taken your advice to heart somewhat since his punches are only apparently hurting you now. You’re probably going to need to go back to glasses after everything is said and done as one side of your face is a little blurrier now than the other.

“What did I say about telling the truth?” You mumble, glancing back at Tavros. “You want more? Fine. The other explanation is “I had to kill him because you lot wouldn’t fuckin’ let me-”

Karkat’s arm around Tavros’ softens the blow somewhat but at least the other side of your face feels just as shitty.

“What?” You demand. “That’s the truth! I had to fuckin’ kill him before you all woke up or he would never have-”

“ _Tavros_!”

Oh that’s definitely Nepeta screaming this time, trying to get around Equius as Tavros produces a daggerlance from apparently nowhere. The needle-sharp point glistens in Tavros’ shaking hand as he holds you against the stove with the other.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Karkat says, dropping Tavros’ sleeve and holding his hands out like he was trying to calm a flighty velociraptor. “Tavros…Tavros put the lance down…”

“Why?” Tavros squeaks ineffectually, managing to look murderous and miserable at the same time. “Wh-why should I?! He k-killed Gamzee!”

“He’s got a point, Kar,” You shrug as best as you’re able with Tavros’ hand still pinning you to the stove.

“Give me one…one good reason I shouldn’t…” The threat hangs in the air as you almost suspect Tavros sincerely wants a good reason not to spike you to the stove.

“I…really wish I could,” You mumble, eyes locking with his. “But…for the life of me…I can’t think of one." 

It’s a statement of fact that seems to shock Tavros more than anything but you were always so good at eliminating possibilities.

“I can’t think of anythin’ to say,” You giggle, violet trickling out of the corner of your mouth. “For once in my fuckin’ life I got nothin’ to say…shock of all shocks, huh?”

“Eridan, for the love of _fuck_!” Karkat says, hands clutching at his hair in panic. “Shut up! Shut your stupid fucking mouth! Tavros, please just stop! Look, it was a long time ago! Eridan’s…Eridan’s probably really sorry that he did it!”

“No…really not,” You say with a small shrug. “I’m sorry it had to happen but I’d do it again in a fuckin’ heartbeat if pressed.”

“You…you son of a…” Tavros sobs, gripping his lance tighter as he raises it above his head. “You didn’t have the right…you didn’t have any right…”

…now hang on a second.

“No,” You admit, the smallest quiver of fear (anticipation?) trembling in your stomach. “I had…I had _every_ right. Every-"

“Shut up!” Tavros snaps, tightening his grip on your shirt.

“I never shut up, Tav,” You say with a half-laugh, half-sob. “Only one way to ensure I do that, right? Kan you remember me glubbin’ much after I got sawed in half?"

Kanaya is completely silent, grabbing the back of Vriska's chair as she watches the scene unfold before her.

"No? Well…there you have it,” You shrug. 

“Do you have a fucking deathwish you dumb purple asshole?!” Karkat all but sobs, looking between the two of you in horrified panic. 

“…not a deathwish,” You say, eyes locking with Tavros’. “Not at all…but if this is how it’s gotta go down-”

“It isn’t!” Karkat insists, looking at the rest of the crew for help.

“Well…Tav clearly disagrees,” You say as Tavros’ lip quivers ever so slightly. “I said my peace, Tav. I told you what happened…ball’s in your court, mate.”

Your eyes watch the tip of the daggerlance intently, possibly to keep from looking out to see if anyone is going to try and stop him other than Karkat. It wouldn’t do to die with regrets and spoil what has been so far a perfectly lovely execution. Could be worse. Could be crucifixion. Could be drawing and quartering. You’re not feeling suicidal but you’ve entertained this scenario multiple times over the past fifty or so years; you knew you’d have to face the music for what you’ve done while everyone was asleep.

There's something poetic about it being a knife that does you in. 

“Made up your mind?” You ask as Tavros grits his teeth in despair. “Come on…”

“I could…” Tavros stutters.

“You could,” You concede.

“You…” Tavros’ sentence is drowned in another watery sob before he presses on. “H-he wasn’t a bad guy!”

“...no,” You say past a lump in your throat. "I know that...I know-"

“You don’t know!” Tavros snaps, eyes brimming with bronze tears. “You don’t…you didn’t know him like I did!”

“…what?” A small spike of indignant anger travels up your spine.

“Y-you said he “had” to die but h-how could you have known that!” Tavros demands. “Because you didn’t know him like I knew him you didn’t-”

"Didn't I?" You find yourself saying against your better instincts. "Is that...is that what you think?"

"Why would you?!" Tavros sobs. "He was just another _p-problem_ for you to deal with! You didn't-"

“…fuck…you,” You say softly before you can stop yourself, face flushed violet heart thundering in your ears as everyone turns their attention to you in shock.

“What?!” Tavros asks as you rise up just a little bit under his grip.

“Fuck… _ **you**_!” You spit, violet blood flying from your lips as Tavros visibly balks. Sollux’s eyes flare up again but you don’t pay him or anyone else any mind; your entire world is you and Tavros on the three feet of kitchen tile you occupy.

You might die here tonight but you will be _damned_ if you die before you make one or two things _abundantly_ clear.

“Fuck you, I didn’t know him!” You hiss at the trembling bronzeblood. “What makes _you_ think you knew him _half_ as well as I did?! Oh, maybe I wasn’t _flushed_ for him; maybe I didn’t want to _fuck_ him but _fuck you_ if I didn’t fuckin’ know him! Better than _you_! Better than _any of you_! You can fuckin’ kill me, Tav, I’ll let you do that; but I’m not gonna let you stand there and say that you knew him more than I did when you didn’t know a _god damned thing_!”

Everyone is looking at you like you just sprouted a second head but you’ve worked yourself into a proper froth and you’re not going to stop now.

**> >Eridan: Tirade**

“You want to know the truth?!” You say, glancing around the room for the first time. “Here’s…here’s the fuckin’ truth. You’re all basically good people. Assholes, the whole fuckin’ lot of you but when the chips are fuckin’ down you’re probably ten of the best people I’ve ever met.”

“And that-” You let out a small laugh. “That…is the fuckin’ problem! I am standin’ here beggin’ you to kill me and none of you is goin’ to do it. You don’t got the fuckin’ stomach for it…cept maybe Vris…or Kan. But let’s fuckin’ face it; Gamzee could be on his fuckin knees beggin’ you to put your lance between his ribs, Tav, and you wouldn’t fuckin’ do it.”

“I know you…you would have held on to whatever little fuckin’ hope there was left for him,” You whisper, taking a step forward as Tavros actually shrinks backwards lance trembling in his hands as he’s all but blinded by tears. “You would have tried to everything you could to help him. You would have tried to ignore the **bloody fucking nightmares** he left screaming in his wake. You would have let him live; you would have spared his life again and again and _again_ because you couldn’t bear the thought of the world without him! You would have tried to put him back together, failing to realize that he wasn’t all there anymore!”

“And you would have been responsible for every single one of his nightmares,” You hiss, vision swimming suddenly. “Could you have fuckin’ done that?! Could you have fuckin’ lived with yourself knowin’ you could have done somethin’ for him and didn’t?! Could you have watched him decay year after year after year and done nothin’ to stop him until there was nothin' fuckin' left?! Even if he fuckin’ asked to...to...”

Oh shit, are you fucking crying right now?

Your vision is swimming but honestly you thought that was just the booze or the head trauma talking but the hot, wet streams of violet running down your cheeks begs to differ. God damnit, you are crying, aren’t you? You can’t even work up a tirade of righteous indignation without blubbering like a god damned wriggler. Everyone is gaping at you like a fucking idiot and whatever shred of murderous intent Tavros possesses (which you assumed was absolutely none at all) seems to evaporate as the lance clattered to the kitchen floor.

So much for that.

The silence is almost choking as you and Tavros stare at each other for what feels like eternity until you are hit with an almost overwhelming urge to get the fuck out of here before you make an absolute mess of yourself.

**> >Eridan: Irish Abscond.**

“I have…I have to…” You stammer, staggering up off the stove with a small grunt as the stray piece of metal dislodges itself from your shoulder. Nothing in this universe is more important to you than the door that will lead to the boat that will take you away from this twisted nightmare of a social gathering. If Gam were still here you could safely execute an Irish goodbye…but since Gam not being here is sort of the problem, you can’t really get away without some kind of distraction.

…you hope that Tavros is more of a lightweight than he appears.

“I…I don’t…” Through tears he turns and grabs the sides of the sink in time to heave half a pint of raspberry schnapps and twenty five jalapeno poppers straight into the garbage disposal as Karkat rushes to his side, hands on Tavros’ shoulders as you hope nobody notices you stealing towards the exit. You pass Sol without so much as a second glance and you wonder how long it will be before someone notices you’re gone…

**> >Feferi: Notice**

This night has been the textbook definition of a five star disaster.

In the span of five minutes, Eridan admitted to killing Gamzee, Tavros looked like he was going to kill him, Eridan blew up, and Tavros started throwing up into the sink, leaving you standing at the back of the room, looking like you just got knocked over by a particularly gnarly wave.

But what bothers you the most is that for the life of you, after spending sweep after sweep as Eridan’s moirail, you cannot remember ever seeing him cry.

God knows the pompous little dork would have rather chewed his own face off rather than shed a tear in front of you so when he starts rambling, sobbing, eyes gushing violet you’re almost horrified. The shock sticks with you after Tavros starts throwing up in the sink and you almost don’t notice the door to the dock swing open. You’re halfway into the kitchen to check on Tavros before you remember that _someone_ is missing from this picture.

…you should have known the little bugger was a flight risk.

**> >Feferi: Pursue**

“Eridan!”

Your voice echoes in the cave beneath the house as you head down the steps, sandals flopping on the wet stone steps as you hear the boat engine fire up beneath you. You make it down to the dock just as he’s untying the red anchor rope, letting it drop on the dock as he staggers back down the gangplank, holding his shoulder and not bothering to look up after you. This wasn't how this was supposed to go; he wasn't supposed to disappear again after all this time! You spent two years tracking him down and you are going to be _damned_ if you let him slip away so easily.

“Hell of a party, eh?” He sniffs, putting on a shaky smile as he winds up the rope, not quite looking at you as he works. “You know…you know if Kar wants to _completely_ ruin everyone’s vacation next time, he should just invite a ravenous t-tiger instead! Maybe release a cloud of anthrax or somethin’!”

“Eridan just stop for one second,” You say, grabbing the other end of rope before he can wind it up completely. You give a sharp tug and half of it comes undone from his grasp, nearly jerking him out of the boat and into the water. “You’re not...you're not _thinking_ straight right now!”

“Well that’s me in a nutshell, ain’t it?” Eridan laughs, running a hand through his hair as he stares down at the bottom of his craft. “Never really thinkin’ straight…always doin’ things in the heat of the moment that come back to bite me in the dorsal fin. You know what they say about bad habits; they’re a bitch and a half to break.”

He doesn’t look six-thousand and some-odd years right now; he doesn’t even look twenty-five as he stares helplessly into the water, violet dripping from the cut on his lip as he grips the boat’s railing tightly. He looks like the boy you knew, stripped of the pomp and ceremony he cloaked himself with and left with only the bruised, bleeding core of his being. It strikes you that you have never seen Eridan this vulnerable; he wouldn't have allowed himself to appear as anything less than fully composed or at the very least stoic in the face of hardship whenever you were present. But there is no disguising how sad, tired, and absolutely destitute he looks right now.

“Sorry,” He mutters so softly you almost don’t catch it. “Sorry for…tell Kar I’m sorry for ruinin’ his fuckin’ party.”

“Tell him yourself,” You say, wrapping the rope around your hands. “Eridan, we just want to talk!”

“We talked,” Eridan says flatly. “Kinda pointless to talk anymore, isn’t it? Unless you think I can shove my foot even further into my mouth. Maybe if I unhinge my jaw I can get my leg in there up to my knee or-”

“Oh my _god_ would it _kill you_ not to jump to the worst glubbing conclusion for once?!” You groan, dragging your hands down your face in abject frustration.

“What other conclusion is there right now?” Eridan says, leaning on the railing as he looks up at you for the first time. He falters for a moment as your eyes meet for the first time in a long time and your grip slackens ever so slightly on the rope in your arms.

“How…how is this going to end for me, Feferi?” He asks. "Tell me. What is the best case scenario for me right now other than leaving this island as fast as I fuckin' can?"

You genuinely think he wants an answer...but for the life of you, you can’t summon up a lie that will make him stay.

“Eridan, please just- _hey_!“ His hands tug at something on the deck of the boat and before you can figure out what he’s doing, the rope slackens as Eridan slams backwards on the throttle. “Where do you think you’re-“

You watch the rope uncoil from his end, coming loose from his boat as he turns it around in the shallow dock. He must’ve untied while you weren’t looking and all you’re holding onto now is a useless spool of rope.

“Eridan!” You holler over the boat engine, running along the docks as his boat pulls out to sea. “Eridan please just listen to me!”

But it would have been just too glubbing much for him to listen to you, wouldn’tve it?

You reach the end of the dock sooner than you expected and in a fit of frustration, you rip off one of your sandals and whip it at the back of his boat. It bounces off the back of his head but he doesn’t stop the pressure on the throttle until the small, blinking red tail lights vanish with the tide going out.

And just like that, Eridan is gone.

You're disappointed, to be sure but now is the time to be calm and rational.

**> >Feferi: Be calm and rational.**

**“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHH!”**

God you wish your hair was still long enough to pull. Your bare foot connects with a bucket lying on the dock, sending it sailing out of the mouth of the cave and into the surf as you watch Eridan’s boat slip away from you. You fling the red rope to the dock angrily, muffled curses echoing throughout the cave as you slump against the smooth, wet, stone wall. An angry, frustrated sob escapes your lips and you swipe your eyes with the back of your hand, wiping the purple tears on the back of your shorts as you trudge up the stairs, bare foot slapping against the wet stone steps as you fume silently.

Would it have _killed him_ to do what you ask for once in his life?! You weren’t asking for a pound of flesh or anything but noooooooooo he wouldn’t be Eridan if he didn’t overreact to literally everything!

You pause halfway up the steps, hand resting on the cave wall as the image of Eridan looking down into the water, lip dripping blood and bruised eyes searching the waves for _something_ refuses to leave your mind. It was a look of complete and utter bafflement more than anything else; as though he didn’t even know where he was going to go once he pulled out of the harbor.

As usual, he was an oyster you couldn’t even begin to crack but something told you that there was more to Gamzee’s story than Eridan was letting on…if only you could get inside his head somehow…

**> >Feferi: Be Eridan.**

**Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!**

Getting inside Eridan's head was clearly a mistake.

To your credit, you made it a few dozen knots before collapsing to the floor of the boat, hands pressing into your eyes and quietly screaming into your shirt stuffed into your mouth. Your hands feebly pound on the floor of the boat, inhaling great lungfuls of salt air to remind yourself that you are not in the middle of the fucking hotel in Paris and you are not surrounded by an angry mob and your knife has not just pressed through the front of Gamzee’s chest, p _oking out the other side you both let out a small gasp. His legs buckle as rich, purple blood flows down the silvery tip of your-_

**> >Eridan: Hit self**

Your closed fist collides with the side of your head as your eyes open, dark ocean extending out as far as the eye can see. You lean over the side of the boat and heave, watching the contents of your stomach stain the water in an inky black hue. Small shudders rock your body as the cool, crisp evening suddenly feels oppressively hot; _hot as a day in the French countryside. Hot as the middle of a crowd. Hot as Gamzee’s blood washing over your fingers as you-_

**> >Eridan: Hit self**

“Stop it…stop it…stop it…” You mutter under your breath, slapping yourself in the face to ground yourself in the moment. You shuffle towards the helm, gripping it tightly as your eyes burn holes into the black horizon. You want to get to the mainland before dawn and maybe if you focus on steering the boat hard enough, you’ll forget the look of serenity on Gamzee’s face as he dies in your arms.

God, **damn** do you wish you could be someone else right now…

**> >Be someone else right now.**

You are once again Cleg Peterson and you are currently staring down the barrel of a silenced Remington 11-87 as a disgruntled Russian troll wants to know what the fuck happened to his goddamned teddy bears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, we have ended the prologue section of the story. The truth regarding Gamzee has come out, we set up for a (very) long chapter in which Eridan and Feferi yell at each other a lot, and the real hero of this story Cleg confronts his one time guildmate and romantic crush wielding a shotgun. 
> 
> So good times for everyone. 
> 
> Playing with Eridan's hope powers here a little bit but the gist of it is that the sole surviving gods of any given aspect (i.e. Eridan, Feferi, Nepeta, Karkat, Gamzee, Sollux, Terezi, Equius) can take on abilities of other classes within their aspects. So because Eridan is the only Hope player left and even though he is still the Prince of Hope, he can borrow skills from other classes within the Hope purview quite simply because no one else is there to fill in the void (or the hope as the case is). Which is why he can manipulate Hope like a Witch or a Maid and either hope that no one sees him so hard he becomes unnoticeable or hope Tavros throws up at an opportune moment to make an escape. 
> 
> (Time and Space are divided between the active and passive players (i.e. Dave and Jade ruling over the active aspects of SpaceTime and Kanaya and Aradia ruling over the passive) while Breath and Light are up for grabs somewhat. In the event that one of the gods dies or is killed, it is possible for another god of their aspect to assume their duties and abilities Highlander style). 
> 
> Up next we have bickering, death threats, airline food, old Irish ladies, and more broken tables than a Dudley Boyz family reunion followed by NINE MONTHS OF PESTERCHATS. 
> 
> Seriously the intermission is almost longer than the entire story that's led up to it so I hope no one is put off by long stretches of texts in shades of purple.


	6. Without A Hint of Light

**> >Cleg: Seize the gun. **

The strange, Russian troll who claimed to be xXxgIrLgAmEr413xXx stumbled back as three months of Tae Bo lessons finally pay off. You have one chance to get control of the weapon before your attacker recovers from the palm strike to his nose. You lunge for the gun in the darkness, fumbling around as you can hear the man slowly scrambling to his feet. Your hands reach out and for a moment, your fingers touch, for the first time in real life as the troll brings the weapon crashing down on top of your head and-

**> >Be someone relevant to the plot. **

Really?

**> >Be someone that is relevant to the plot. **

Look I'm not going to get much of a chance to do this for a while. I'm gonna be perfectly level with you; shit is going to get relatively real pretty shortly so could you just bear with me for another couple of seconds?

**> >BE SOMEONE THAT IS RELEVANT TO THE PLOT**

_Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine_.

You are once again Feferi Peixes and you realize that leaving the powder keg unattended was unwise when there are so many sparks flying about. You barely get the door at the top of the dock open when you hear-

“-so _soooooooorry_ if I’m not crying about the fucking clown!”

Things seem to have gone deeper into hell with no handbasket in sight as you slowly peer around the corner of the door. Vriska is on her feet, staring down Sollux who is being held back by Aradia. Kanaya sits on an ottoman between the two of them, hands clasped and folder in her lap, frowning at the carpet as the argument rages around her. Equius has a hand on Nepeta’s shoulder, face completely unreadable while Nepeta glances back and forth between Vriska and Sollux, looking like she wants to jump in and say something. Outside, Karkat is hunched over the balcony, talking to a shivering Tavros as Terezi leans against the balcony thoughtfully, cane tapping against the side of her foot as her attention is focused on the bickering inside.

“Wow, Vriska Serket is unaffected by someone fucking dying; shock of all shocks!” Sollux laughs bitterly.

“I’m sorry, have you brainless _dugongs_ seriously forgotten the fact that Gamzee Makara was responsible for half the deaths in this fucking room?!” Vriska says, gesturing at Equius and Nepeta who wince a little. “Or do we just not give a shit about them?”

“And Eridan is now responsible for _more_!” Sollux snaps, eyes crackling with energy. “Still not _quite_ up to your count but by all _fucking_ means; _let’s give him the opportunity to surpass you!_ "

“Wow, _tho_ much for “letting _thleeping_ _dogth_ lie”, _Tholluxth_ ,” Vriska lisps, narrowing her eyes as Sollux’s lips curl back and even Aradia shoots Vriska a disgusted glare. “How did I fucking know _aaaaaaaall_ that shit you said about moving on would go out the window whenever it was convenient for you?”

“ _Convenient_?!” Sollux spits. “How the _fuck_ is any of this _convenient_?!”

“This whole situation is convenient for you!” Vriska snaps. “You’re not any sadder about Juggy the Murderclown being dead than I am. You just want a convenient excuse to have someone else rub off Eridan because you’re not troll enough to do it yourself. Fucking pathetic is what it is; holding a goddamn grudge from when you were teenagers!”

“I _want_ to be able to sleep at night without worrying about some violet douchebag coming up behind me and stabbing me!” Sollux spits. “You fucking heard him! Gamzee was just standing around minding his own business and he just skewered him!"

“Hey, he had plenty of time to kill me if he wanted to!” Nepeta speaks up finally. “If he were really out to get us, wouldn’t he have started with me?”

“So what you’re saying is that we all just need to _fuck_ him and _maybe_ he’ll let us live?!” Sollux huffs as Nepeta huffs, throwing her hands up and rising from the couch.

“I’d thank you not to speak to Nepeta in such a vulgar tone,” Equius replies icily from his seat on the couch.

“Kanaya back me the fuck up here,” Sollux says, turning to Kanaya who has been sitting quietly throughout the discussion. “As one of Eridan’s two-oh, sorry, _three_ -victims-“

“Don’t involve me in this,” Kanaya says softly. “If we’re going to start prosecuting Gamzee’s killers, I’m long overdue for my day in court.”

“Oh come on you had a good fucking reason; he was in psycho murder clown mode and-“

“ _And_ what’s to say he got any better with time?” Kanaya says. “I’m not any fonder of Eridan than I was a couple of hours ago...but the fact of the matter is that evidence points to Gamzee attacking Eridan at one point or another. How else could he have gotten that scar? Even if he claims to have murdered Gamzee in cold blood-”

“Are you jerking my bulge right now?” Sollux laughs humorlessly, shaking his head.

“I have never jerked a bulge a day in my life,” Kanaya says flatly, eyes narrowing. “And I am not going to start with yours.”

“I cannot _believe_ you are defending Douchescar right now,” Sollux says, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Seriously, AA, we should book our next ski trip to the _snowy hills of hell_!”

“I’m not _defending_ anyone,” Kanaya sighs. “Just stating the facts; Eridan said he had a good reason for…killing Gamzee and-“

“And you believed that shit?!” Sollux interjects. “His last two homicides were committed for the good reason of “fuck everything; it’s better if we’re all dead slash slaves to Jack Noir.” What makes you think his reasons have gotten any better?”

“So what’s your solution?” Kanaya asks suddenly. “Kill him? Would you like to perform the honors since you seem to be the biggest advocate for the death penalty in this case?"

There is a pregnant pause as Sollux visibly balks at the suggestion.

“I…give me the fucking shot and I’ll do it,” Sollux mutters after a long moment.

“You had your _fucking_ shot,” Kanaya says, standing up and smoothing her skirt out. “He was literally standing two feet away from you, pinned against an oven and bleeding, all but _begging_ someone to wipe him out and you just stood there. All of you did."

Sollux’s lip twitches, balking a little as Kanaya turns to head up the stairs shaking her head softly as she goes.

“He’s not wrong, you know,” Kanaya remarks, pausing with her hand on the bannister. “You aren’t killers; you don’t have the stomach for it.”

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sollux demands as Kanaya starts to climb the steps. “Eridan’s going to be back at any second and you just want to turn in for the night?!”

“Who’s sleeping?” Vriska snorts as Kanaya disappears up the steps towards her room. “You got Kanaya aaaaaaaall flustered and I am going to take fuuuuuuuull advantage of it. Just an FYI; if you hear screaming, it’s _not_ Eridan’s doing.”

“Yeah, great idea, let’s all just turn in and fuck each other while the serial killer is on the loose,” Sollux grumbles, running his hands through his hair.

“Oh give it a fucking rest already,” Vriska sighs, trailing up the stairs after Kanaya. “You’re outvoted Sollux. Karkat won’t do anything, Aradia’s not going to do anything and neither is Tavros. Nepeta is actually sticking up for Eridan, believe it or not, Equius is going to go with Nepeta and Feferi…well, Feferi couldn’t kill a fucking goldfish to feed to her starving lusus. No one’s killing anyone to-”

Vriska pauses as her eyes fall on you and falters under your sour expression. After all this time, after all you’ve been through together, you’re still arguing and jumping down each other’s throats like wrigglers. You wonder, for a fleeting moment, if Eridan is right in thinking that you aren’t cut out for managing the world; you can barely manage a picnic without everything going straight to hell.

“What?” Vriska asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she leaves. “If I’m lying may the God of Thunder strike me- _oh wait_ , that’s my boyfriend; yeah, never mind.”

Vriska disappears up the stairs as Sollux brushes past you, looking down into the docks for any sign of Eridan.

“Don’t bother,” You groan, kicking off your other sandal so you’re not hobbling around like some kind of hobo pirate. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? How is he-“

“Speedboat,” You say, running a hand through your hair as you pace the kitchen, glancing at the violet stain on the jagged piece of metal that used to be the stove. This _wasn’t_ how you imagined this evening going; not by a nautical mile. Okay, you didn’t exactly have the night planned out to the T but _this_ wasn’t on the itinerary. Eridan up and disappearing after admitting his killcount had increased along with his height was something you didn’t anticipate. The term “blue balls” had been bandied about by John and Dave to refer to some kind of painful frustration that humans experienced and given the hollow, unsatisfied feeling that was currently gnawing at your stomach, you are certain that you are _definitely_ suffering from a major case of the blue balls.

Your balls have surely never been bluer.

**> >Feferi: Unblue your balls.**

_Ugh_ , you would if you could! Or even knew how!

But that would require Eridan to still be within shouting distance and he _had_ to up and turn tail before you could say two words to him, didn't he?!

…okay Tavros _did_ clock him in the shnoz and there _may_ or _may not_ have been talk about skewering him...but still! He shouldn’t have just bailed on you like that! Okay you…may or may not have been avoiding him all night but shouldn’t he at least have trusted you when you said nothing was going to happen to him?

(...shouldn't he have?)

All these years and he still doesn’t listen to you! Still shut up tighter than a miserly clam on pearl-tax day! Do you have to trap him in a box and lock the door just to get some answers out of-

**> >Feferi: Hatch Plan**

“Feferi?” Nepeta asks as you realize you must be staring at her. You bend down and pick up your shoe, looking at the sole with a thoughtful frown.

“Where is he?” You ask after a moment, looking up at Nepeta as a sudden thought strikes you. It's insane...but given how this evening has gone so far, insane is pretty much par for the course.

“Like...right now?” Nepeta shrugs. "I dunno: you said he took off into the-”

“Nonono!” You say, taking Nepeta by the shoulders. “No I mean his hive-sorry, _house_! Where does he live?”

“Somewhere in Ireland, no?” Aradia remarks after a moment as Nepeta looks at you with a curious and somewhat uneasy expression.

Yeah...why?” She asks. “Why the sudden interest in Eridan’s place?”

It takes you a brief moment to decipher her expression and when you do you have to admit that you’re just the tiniest bit hurt.

“I’m…I’m not going to hurt him,” You say softly. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“ _You_ are not what I am worried about!” Sollux chimes in as he comes back from the docks downstairs. “FF, _please_ tell me you’re not _seriously_ considering traveling to whatever misty bumfuck corner of creation Eridan lives in now.”

“Okay…I won’t tell you then,” You say, glancing back to Nepeta as Sollux lays a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you crazy?!” He asks, stepping around to look you in the eye. “Are you seriously considering going after him by yourself?!”

“No, I was asking Nepeta for his address so I could mail his boat rope back,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Sollux-”

“No, seriously, what _possible_ reason could you have for going after him alone?” Sollux demands. “Look, if you want to yell at him or something, at least take someone with you; it doesn’t have to be me but-”

“Probably shouldn’t be you,” Aradia says from her perch on a barstool as Sollux shoots her a baffled glance. “Just saying. You two tend to get on like oil and flamethrowers and I don’t imagine Feferi is looking to start any more fires.”

“I’m not,” You say, licking your lips nervously. “I just…I need to see him; just me and him. Anyone else and he's going to just take off again!”

“Why?” Sollux asks. “What happens if he-”

“He won’t,” Nepeta interjects.

“How do you know?” Sollux snaps.

“Because I _think_ I know a thing or two about him after being with him in an extremely red black relationship for eight freaking months!” Nepeta shoots back. “I’m sorry; if anyone is the Eridan authority around here, it’s _me_!”

“So you know him well enough to guarantee FF’s safety?!” Sollux demands. “You just want to send her alone? If I was there-”

“With,” Equius speaks up in a soft, rumbling voice. “All due respect, I fail to see how your presence would ensure the Heire… _Feferi_ ’ _s_ safety.”

“You don’t think I can handle Ampora?” Sollux says, rounding on Equius.

“Given your track record against him, I would have to honestly answer with a resounding no,” Equius says softly and Sollux flinches as though he’s been slapped. "Or have you forgotten how your last battle ended?"

“Equius!” You and Nepeta shout in unison.

“That was really low!” You say as Sollux’s face scrunches up, glaring at Equius’ chest as Aradia clucks her tongue in disapproval.

“I meant no offense,” Equius says flatly, getting up from the couch as Aradia moves to lightly touch Sollux on the shoulder. “I was simply stating the facts of the situation.”

“No one asked!” Nepeta huffs, hands on her hips as Sollux glares hard at the ground in front of him.

“Apologies,” Equius says, rubbing his arm awkwardly as he makes for the door. “I...shall see myself out.”

You watch him go with a sigh, glancing over to where Aradia is whispering something into Sollux’s ear, arms protectively enveloping him in a way that makes you just the slightest bit jealous.

“I know you’re scared for me,” You say softly as Sollux angrily crams his shades over his eyes. “But if he really had it in for us…wouldn’t he have at least fought back against Tavros?”

Sollux glances out the window, catching Karkat’s eye as your onetime friendleader tries to calm Tavros down. Even faced with the prospect of death, Eridan didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself from Tavros’ fit of anger…a fact that you found troubling for many reasons but if anything it suggested he wasn’t about to attack you for no earthly reason.

“Please,” You say as Nepeta looks at you with eyes that seem to be picking apart your motives, looking for any sign that you mean Eridan harm. It’s sweet in a way; if nothing else, he managed to earn Nepeta’s trust and affection enough that she was defending him even after they broke up. After a moment, she sighs, reaching into her pocket and producing her cell phone.

“Go pack,” She commands, punching in a couple of numbers and looking out the window as the dial-tone purrs in her ear.

“Hey, it’s me!” Nepeta says before you can ask what she’s on about. “Did I wake you or…oh…oh _crap_. Bad time to call? No…no I’m fine…I’m…well, I’m fine but…no…no, well...okay, listen I…I need a favor. No, no one is hurt…no we’re not in danger-”

“That remains to be seen,” Sollux mutters darkly.

“-I know,” Nepeta sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I know this is your...Dave-time I just really need a quick zoop over here…Ireland… _no, Eridan and I are not back together!_ Look…I can tell you when you get here I just…okay. I know...I know...you will? You’re the best girlfriend ever, you know that?”

Realization washes over you as you scamper off to your room to grab your suitcase.

* * *

“Okay...what the _fuck_ happened to my stove?!”

You tug your suitcase down the stairs to see the owner of the house standing in her kitchen, wet hair up in a messy ponytail and wearing a shirt and shorts that look just a little too big to be hers. She’s looking between the crumpled stove and Nepeta in confusion as you come back into the living area.

“Seriously, what was the _one_ thing I asked you guys not to do?!” Jade says as Karkat sticks his head in. “Karkat, _you_ were supposed to keep a lid on things!" 

"Jade, not now," Nepeta pleads softly.

"What do you _mean_ not now?! He owes me a new goddamn stove! I mean I know I don't live here full time any more but-" Jade’s brow wrinkles in confusion as Karkat sighs and retreats back onto the porch without another word.

“Okay…what the _fuck_ just happened here?” Jade said, glancing from face to face for answers.

“Long story,” Nepeta sighs, scratching the back of her neck. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“Yeah, seriously,” You add. “Thank you.”

“You know what; wveryone is getting books of teleportation tickets for Christmas,” Jade mutters, crossing her arms as Nepeta winds hers around her matesprit’s waist. “Except Kanaya who is getting teleportation lessons; I’m tired of being the globe-trotting sled dog.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Nepeta purrs, pressing a kiss into Jade’s hair and teasing a small, reluctant smile out of the girl.

“Make it up to Dave; I wasn’t the one in the tub when you called,” Jade chuckles, glancing at you after a moment. You had never been very close with Nepeta’s matesprit ever since your less than stellar first conversations in the game but the fact that she was willing to leave her…other matesprit(?) to come give you a lift was surprising in the best possible way.

The fact that she saved you from waiting in line at the airport was enough to put her in your good books for at least the next hundred years.

“Good to go?” Jade asks.

“Think so,” You reply, tapping your suitcase as Aradia nudges Sollux towards you.

“Look…just be careful, okay?” Sollux mumbles, rubbing his arm as he looks over your head in an adorably awkward way that used to make your heart skip. “I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself I just don’t want to…”

He isn’t going to finish that thought so you cut him off with a tight, brief hug.

“I'll take care of myself,” You promise, glancing at Aradia and nodding at Sollux behind his back as if to say “watch this one.” Aradia seems to understand because she simply nods as you disengage the hug.

“Fill them in, okay?” You nod to the trio outside. You would say goodbye yourself but you don’t want to deal with Karkat or Tavros possibly trying to stop you. You've had enough of that for one night.

“We’ll let them know,” Aradia promises, nodding towards Jade and Nepeta who are making their way up another flight of stairs. You grab your suitcase and trot after them, trying not to listen in on Nepeta filling Jade in on your current situation. You trail behind as you spy a violet duffel bag near the door, crumpled in a heap completely forgotten in Eridan’s haste to escape. You sigh through your nose, trotting over and tossing it on top of your suitcase as you run to catch up with the gossiping matesprits.

“Seriously?” Jade says, stopping on the stairs and looking back at you as you catch up. “You mean we’re…we’re not invincible?”

“Would seem that way,” Nepeta shrugs as Jade’s ears flick anxiously.

“Well…that’s a boner killer,” Jade sighs, trudging up the stairs towards a balcony overlooking the ocean from the other side. “…glad it was the clown though. I mean, I'm not Eridan's biggest fan by a longshot but I'd be lying if I'm not sleeping a little easier.”

You and Nepeta share a silent glance as you step out under the stars.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” Jade says, cracking her knuckles. “I left Dave with a serious case of blue balls that I should be getting back to.”

“I can sympathize; I’m dealing with a pretty serious case of blue balls myself,” You chuckle.

“I…okay?” Jade says fixing you with an odd look. “I…is that why you’re going to Eridan’s?”

“Yep,” You nod as Jade shares a confused glance with Nepeta.

“Huh…didn’t know you two were-” Jade coughs into her hand. “Oh well; not my business. You ready to split?”

“Anything I should know?” You ask, inching closer to Jade a little hesitantly. “Like…will I split into two pieces if I don’t stay perfectly still or-”

**> >Feferi: Be In Ireland**

“-something?”

You blink and suddenly instead of on a balcony, you are standing on a patch of untended grass in the middle of an overgrown garden completely encased by hedges. The warm tropical air has been replaced with a wet, foggy chill that sends a shiver running down your spine. You blink as the pale moon above you is replaced by an almost equally pale sun hidden behind layers of thin, grey clouds.

**> >Feferi: Resist the urge to throw up.**

That’s going to be a tall order. Already you can feel the shrimp puffs and two and a half margaritas you had coming back to haunt you as your body is shifted thousands of miles in a blink of an eye.

You think you can manage it tho-

**> >Feferi: Fail a Constitution check.**

Thank god for potted plants.

“First time zooping?” Nepeta asks, rubbing your shoulders as you dump your dinner into a pot of half-dead violets. “Told you we shoulda stopped off in Cairo or something, Jade.”

“Why so she could throw up in Egypt instead of Ireland?” Jade huffs as you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, slowly getting to your feet. “Pit stops just prolong the inevitable ralphing; you should know that by now.”

“Okay?” Nepeta asks as you nod, holding onto a post of an old wooden awning for support. You glance back towards a brick and oak house with a dark purple door.

“Is this it?” You ask, glancing up at the house as Nepeta bends over to fish around in a pot by the door. You make your way over to the hedge, jumping up to peer over top at the small, suburban neighborhood. “I thought Dublin was…bigger.”

“Technically it’s Malahide,” Jade says, tail twitching irritably as Nepeta produces a key from the pot. “I should know; I came here enough. Still coming here too; I think I’m going to be zooping to this backyard from now until this planet explodes or something…you need a pickup too?”

“No, that’s fine,” You say with a small smile. “I’ll catch a cab to the airport from here…honestly should have done that in the first place.”

You don’t know how long it would take to get here from Sydney but you suppose you have some time on your hands; time enough to work out what you’ll say to Eridan when you see him. It strikes you that this wasn’t the most well conceived plan but it was that or risk Eridan going to ground again and spending another two years looking for him (something you suspect would eat into your marine biology ambitions).

“It’s a nice town,” Nepeta says, offering you the small, silver key. “You can check into a hotel if you’d rather show up later but-”

“I think I’d rather be here when he gets home,” You say, taking the key from Nepeta and turning it over in your hands. “Cut down on the possibility of him doing something rash.”

“You sure that’s a good call?” Jade asks. “Just…ambushing the guy like that in his own home? No warning or anything?”

You and Nepeta both glance at Jade who just rolls her eyes and throws up her hands.

“Right; troll business,” Jade sighs. “I’m just the fleshy, hornless chauffer; don’t mind me. Are we good? Can I get back to my bath, beer, and blonde now?”

“I’m fine,” You say, waving them off. “Seriously; I’ll entertain myself until it gets dark and then…then I’ll probably come back here.”

“Keep me in the loop,” Nepeta says, tugging you into a tight hug. “If you need help or…or anything-”

“I’m going to be fine,” You murmur, squeezing her against you for a moment before slipping out of her embrace and nodding back towards Jade. “You shouldn’t keep Jade waiting any longer.”

“Thank you!” Jade says, tapping her foot as she plays with a strand of damp hair. “Don’t really want to break this up but I think the Witch of Life can keep herself in good health until you see her next.”

Nepeta rolls her eyes fondly as you share a look that can best be described as “humans, right?” She lingers for a moment, giving your hand a squeeze before she backs towards Jade close enough for Jade to tug her by the belt loop of her shorts back a few feet.

“I’m going!” Nepeta mewls, shuffling backwards as Jade tugs her across the lawn. “I’m-”

You blink and they’re gone, the grass they were standing on still crumpled from their weight and a metallic scent lingering in the air. Sighing, you look down at the key in your hands before glancing back towards Eridan’s house.

…you consider letting yourself in but you don’t really want to be wandering around Eridan’s house for the whole day.

You drag the luggage (yours and his) to the back door, cracking open your suitcase and pulling out a spare pair of hiking shoes. You put them on with a small sigh and make your way around the side of Eridan’s house, unlatching the front gate as you step out into his front yard.

It seems as though you have some time to kill…

** >>Feferi: Assassinate Dave Strider. **

Not like that you smartass.

**> Feferi: Kill some time.**

It’s a twenty minute walk from the small suburb Eridan lives in to the village proper. The cool morning seabreeze wakes you up somewhat but you still have to stagger into the first café you see to order about twenty dollars worth of espresso shots. Immortality is likely the only thing that saves you from a massive heart attack after you toss the ten or so cups in the trash can on the way out, ignoring the look of stunned disapproval on the faces of the old women enjoying tea outside the café. You are energized and more than a little jittery as you head out down the village’s main street.

It is the absolute definition of quaint, European seaside town, complete with a castle and luxurious castle garden (one you duck out of due to the rather large, naked statue of the Witch of Life in the middle of the rose gardens. Why are you always naked in art around here?!). It feels like time moves somewhat slower around here; you might have known Eridan would have settled in such a wet, chilly, sleepy little town.

You spend most of the day walking the marina, trying to work out what you want to say to Eridan when you see him again. You duck into a store, buying birdseed and sushi as you sit on the docks and mull over how you’re going to go about this. Flighty little bugger that he is, you wonder if he’s going to just turn around and run the other way when he sees you in his house. You glance down at your feet, wondering if you could catch up to him in an open sprint if it came to that and you wouldn’t be surprised if it did.

The story of your relationship had always been of him running away and you running after him. Every time you thought you got close to him he would act like a terrified squid and throw up a cloud of surly, pompous deception until you learned that there wasn’t much you could do to know him better. You wonder if this was some ploy to keep you from discovering his feelings for you until he was ready and if that was the case then Eridan’s talent for self-sabotage was more ingrained than you could have imagined.

How many times had you wished he would open up to you? But then you realize that he would have only opened up to you if he thought of you as a moirail which you imagine he never did. And now that you’re barely acquaintances…you wonder if he’s going to be any more honest with you.

**> >Feferi: Wonder why you want to speak to this guy so badly.**

Isn’t that the million boonbuck question?

Most people would say that you have no business wanting anything to do with Eridan at all due to his general poor attitude, foul mood, and the small fact that he quite literally broke your heart. You didn’t even want to talk to him after you broke up with him all those years ago and judging from the feedback of those who talked to him back then, that was probably a good call (for your own well-being if no one else’s). Is it just curiosity? Do you just want a damn explanation for why he decided to kill you or something?

You wish you could say that it was.

Because of the fact that Eridan never really opened up to you, you could never get a proper read on his feelings. They were always kept locked away behind layers cynicism, sarcasm, and melodrama. Towards the end, he rarely laughed and wouldn’t be caught dead crying in front of you. In fact, until about six hours ago, you had never seen Eridan shed a tear over anything…which is why the sobbing, angry, shouting himself hoarse Eridan had unsettled you so much. For the first time, you had a glimpse at what Eridan was really thinking and feeling…and you supposed a small part of you wonders how it came to this. Why he was standing there, feeling so old and seeming so blasé about Tavros killing him. Why he seemed to be so shaken about Gamzee’s death when he had never shown remorse for killing anything in the past…

…of course that wasn’t true. And no one knew that but you.

No one knew the strange, strained look in that boy’s eyes as he dragged the freshly murdered corpse of a whale lusus down to your hive. No one else remembers the way he looked at his hands soaked in white blood, drowned in his cape and carrying a weapon bigger than he was as he sat at your kitchen table. No one remembers how you pushed biscuits on him, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder as you wondered if he couldn’t bring your lusus one more before the day was up. No one else remembers the shaky, uncertain smile he gave as he charged back out there, shirt and pants still stained white as his lusus bore him back up towards the surface and his next kill.

No one else saw that look of revulsion disappear over the sweeps as he dragged countless bodies to your lusus’ waiting tentacles. Determination replaced remorse and before long, he seemed proud of the mountains of white bodies he stacked in your hive like so many pieces of driftwood. They stopped being lusi and started being meat to him; mindless cattle to be culled and reaped. You watched him get harder, colder, more distant as your silly, six sweep old self wondered just why he was getting so cruel.

_And you were supposed to be his moirail._

You shake your head, dropping your sushi in the trash as you get up and start walking back towards Eridan’s house as the sun dips lower over the water. You suppose remorse is what brought you here today…his remorse, of course. The fact that after so many years, he seemed to feel some kind of sorrow for murdering someone (someone who had apparently mutilated him) was proof that the boy you used to know might not be gone after all…

…of course, you wouldn’t mind an explanation as to why he felt he had to kill you. But you suppose you have time to cover all the bases.

* * *

**> >Feferi: Enter Eridan’s Home.**

The backdoor creaks as though it hasn’t been oiled in fifty years and you step into a small, dark, neatly furnished kitchen, wheels of your suitcase rolling on the hardwood floor as you close the door behind you. You fumble around for the lights that bathe the room in a pale fluorescent glow. A small, well worn kitchen table for two sits off to one side of the kitchen, a small potted orchid in the middle hanging on for dear life. Clucking disapprovingly, you reach out, stroking the soft velvety petals until the buckled stem starts to straighten under your touch and a rich, violet color returns to the petals.

With a satisfied nod, you stack your suitcases in the corner and step through a door leading to a small hallway. Eridan should be home in a few hours (judging by basic flight times) and you should find a decent place to wait for him. Ahead of you is the **FOYER** with a staircase leading to the **TOP FLOOR**. To the left is a hallway that leads to a small **LIVING ROOM**. To the right, a door is open to what appears to be a **LIBRARY** of some sorts.

Where will you go?

**> >Feferi: Go Left**

The **LIVING ROOM** catches your attention first and you move slowly down the hall, eyes lingering on seascape prints decorating the wall leading into the living room. There’s a worn, comfortable looking black leather chair facing a television that takes up most of the farthest wall. A matching sofa rests against the opposite wall, a small coffee table in the center of the room with a DVD box resting half open on the top.

**> >Feferi: Examine Box**

A long haired, scowly man wearing a trench coat gazes stoically into the distance as the cover reads “HIGHLANDER: THE SERIES Season 1.” You flip the back of the box over to read the description:

 

> Based on the cult-hit movie series of the same name, HIGHLANDER: THE SERIES follows the life and adventures of Duncan MacLeod, a Scottish warrior born in 1592 who is still alive today. He is immortal, and can only die through beheading. The series' episodes flash back and forth throughout the centuries as MacLeod must fight others of his kind who live in secret from mortal man, until there is only one left...and that final immortal will have untold power. This special box set contains all 22 episodes from the first season of HIGHLANDER. 

Your lips twitch into an involuntary smirk as you read the description. Of course Eridan would be all over a show about a dashing, European immortal who lived for over five hundred years; it was practically his autobiography from the description on the back of the box…missing the obvious fact that these immortals were probably not ancient warriors from an alien planet or anything.

That would be _seriously_ stupid.

You replace the box on the table, glancing around at the sparsely furnished room as you’re almost tempted to see what’s on the TV…but you suppose you can always come back after you’ve explored the rest of the house.

You leave the living room and head back to the hallway.

**> >Feferi: Go Upstairs.**

You climb the creaking staircase up to the second floor landing, pausing to rejuvenate yet another wilty looking plant. He either doesn’t care enough to water them or he seriously has the worst green thumb in the universe. Either or both are very likely options.

The **TOP FLOOR** actually turns out to be far less interesting than the LIVING ROOM was. Ahead is a simple bathroom with a shower and claw footed bathtub you could have safely drowned in. The thought of filling it with water and submerging yourself to see if you can sleep in it like something resembling a proper recuperacoon but you manage to pull yourself away from promises of nightmare free sleep to explore the rest of the top floor.

He has actually converted one of the side rooms into a full sized walk-in closet. You snort, shaking your head as you peer in to see row after row of racks in shades of violet, black, and beige. You’re about to leave when a tattered blue and black scrap of cloth catches your eye under glass, prompting you to cross the room and take a closer look.

**> >Feferi: Examine the cloth.**

Displayed in a clear glass case is what appears to be one of the last scraps of Alternian cloth in existence. You would recognize the pattern of blue and black stripes anywhere; from the age of four sweeps, Eridan wouldn’t be caught dead without the long, waterproof scarf wound around his neck. The fabric is frayed and nearly translucent but there’s no doubt that it is the last surviving scrap of Eridan’s scarf.

You would know, having purchased it for him as part of your first Twelfth Perigree as moirails.

He got you something coral and expensive and entirely too flashy for your tastes (which was sadly eaten by a passing great white shark a week later) but seemed to be enthralled by your gift, nearly drowning in it and pouting at you when you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing at how silly he looked. He was so pompous then because it was his first Twelfth Perigree as an officially commissioned Orphaner; ready to sail on dark tides to do the bloody deed of dragging lusii to your underwater lair.

The image of tiny, skinny, ten-year old Eridan wrapped in scarf and carrying a rifle that were both too big for him, so willing to live up to his vicious ancestor’s legacy. You remember the first, still wriggling lusus he dragged to your cave, eyes wide and teeth bared in such a wide smile even as he was coated in the whale’s blood. He was so proud of himself, even if it took forever for the poor thing to die he told you.

The memory of the strange, distant look the boy had in his eye as he stared at his first kill makes you draw back from the battered, torn apart scarf fragment and back slowly out of the room as though it were a sea snake ready to bite. Something akin to revulsion churns inside you but you don’t know why…and you’re afraid you might find out if you stay in this room for very much longer.

**> >Feferi: Examine the bedroom**

The door closes behind you with a snap that echoes throughout the house. In the room ahead, you can see a carved hardwood bed blanketed with a dark plum quilted comforter hanging off the end. It’s what you expect from Eridan; hardwood and nautical themed everything. A small bookcase houses a small collection of well-worn paperback books, some of them already turning yellow with age. A fish tank on the far wall catches your attention, fluorescent blue backlight illuminating a small school of multicolored fish, darting around and glancing up as your fingertips break the surface of the water. You spy a small jar of flakes on the side of the tank, sprinkling a teaspoon in the top of the tank before you go, deciding not to linger in Eridan’s inner sanctum longer than strictly necessary.

You might stumble across another memento that makes your stomach churn.

**> >Feferi: Return to the hallway**

The rest of the top floor isn’t as interesting as you thought it would be so you head down the stairs, wandering back towards the kitchen. You’re hungry (having eaten only half a tray of grocery store sushi almost six hours ago) but you’ve already gone into his house without his permission; you think raiding his fridge might be going a step too far.

You idly fish your phone out of your pocket, checking for restaurants in the area as you aimlessly wander towards the only room in the house you haven’t been in. Your foot lightly pushes the door to the **LIBRARY** open and you glance up from your phone to see walls and walls of books stretching up to the ceiling, jammed in bookshelves, and interspersed between busts and mismatched tchotchkes. A bottle of inky black alcohol with a squid on the front of it sits half empty on the sidebar next to a crystal decanter and an extremely worn leather chair sits in front of a drawn window overlooking the rest of the room. Of all the rooms in the house, this is the one that comes closest to being disorganized even though what passes for chaotic in Eridan’s world is the closest most people get to being clean.

The books, chair, and bottles of alcohol all suggest that this is Eridan’s favorite room to be in when he’s not binging on mid 90’s fantasy television series. When you were kids, Eridan would go on endlessly about how he was going to have all sorts of cool rooms in his hive when he grew up complete with hidden passages and secret doors buried in bookshelves. Because privateers needed a place to hide their treasure after all and what better place to hide booty than behind doors disguised as walls?

Idly, you tap a few of the busts as you walk along the shelf, attempting to twist their heads to reveal a secret switch or something when something small and glittering catches your eye behind an old copy of Moby Dick.

No…he wouldn’t.

**> >Feferi: Examine switch.**

He totally would.

You move the book aside gingerly to get a better look at what appears to be glittering in the back of the bookcase. It appears to be a brass rendition of the Hope symbol imprinted into the bookcase with the purple sign of Aquarius resting on top of it. You reach forward, fingertips brushing across the Aquarius symbol which sinks into the brass at your touch. There is the audible sound of a latch unlatching itself as the bookcase shifts forward ever so subtly as though swinging forward on a hinge.

Your cellphone chirps a jaunty ringtone as though you’ve uncovered a hidden area in a video game. For a moment, you wonder if you should just close the door and leave the room…but curiosity gets the better of you as it frequently does.

**> >Feferi: Open the Door.**

You might have berated Eridan for such an obvious hidden switch were it not for the fact that no one would be able to move such a massive door if they hadn’t spent their lives living at the bottom of the ocean. As it is, it takes most of your strength to get the hundreds of pounds of door and book open enough to see what was inside.

An old, wrought iron light switch rests on the wall at the top of a long flight of stairs that disappears into a dark, musty basement below. For a moment, you wonder if you’re inadvertently stumbling into a hidden sex dungeon or something as your hand hovers over the light switch. You linger on the threshold, teetering on the top of the stairs as you wonder what Eridan could want to keep tucked away so deep inside his house…and if you even wanted to find out.

…you do, by the way, so absconding is not an option. You throw the switch, and the warm, hardwood floor below beckons you as you make your way down the creaky, ancient set of stairs into a room filled with…well…glass.

**> >Feferi: Regard Eridan’s Treasure.**

Where to start?

You could start with the rows and rows of polished, carefully maintained muskets, crossbows and old lever action rifles standing upright in clear glass cases along the walls. You could start with the dozens of carved stone plaques, statues, and ornaments displayed in glass shadowboxes that you couldn’t even begin to place in history. You could start with the bookshelves at the farthest end of the room full of old books and scrolls behind two rows of thick glass (white gloves nearby suggest that not even Eridan touches these books with his bare hands). You could start with the piles of papers, journals, and letters stacked in chests along the walls, so well worn that you're surprised they haven't gone to pieces by now. Priceless artifacts and apparent junk sit side by side, their meaning completely lost on you. But as you step into the musty, dusty basement area you are suddenly overcome with the feeling that you’re somewhere intensely private and that lingering here for too long might be a mistake.

**> >Feferi: Start with the pictures.**

…but you suppose you have some time to take a peek.

There is a rack off to one side of the cavernous room with what appears to be a large, wall mounted poster rack fixed to it much like in a supermarket. Your bare feet leave echoing slaps on the floor of the room as you make your way over, hesitantly reaching out to turn one of the frames so you can see the portrait inside.

**> >Feferi: Regard portrait.**

Your immediate reaction is “of course Eridan would have a portrait of himself in his hive” because that’s just the kind of pompous thing that the Eridan you knew would have done…but your second reaction is that the Eridan you knew would never have sat for a painting like this, much less kept it around. Unlike virtually every other portrait you’ve seen of the Prince of Hope, this one is hauntingly accurate. You’re no art historian but you wager that it wouldn’t look terribly out of place in one of those famous Italian artist galleries. More importantly…this isn’t a picture of the Prince of Hope.

It’s a picture of Eridan.

A troll that is unmistakably Eridan is sitting on a log on the underside of a cliff, poking the embers of a fire that looks on the verge of going out. His hair is tousled and unkempt and he’s wearing a white open shirt, cutoff pants, and no boots. His face is already scarred and he’s leaning on one hand, staring into the fire with a distant and almost wistful look in his eye. The only source of light in the picture comes from the dying fire which illuminates his features in haunting shadows that make him look thin, hungry, and desolate.

You suppose from an objective, artistic standpoint it’s one of the finer works of art you’ve seen (not that you’re any kind of expert) but honestly, it’s one of the more unsettling and disturbing images you’ve ever seen. The feelings of almost revulsion that hit you upstairs return now in force as you slowly back away from the image. You understand it now; you understand why you've been feeling so uneasy about coming here...it's because-

“Not my best side, is it?”

**> >Feferi: Regard Eridan**

A cold trickle of fear slides down your spine as you slowly turn around. The dim lights of the basement cast harsh shadows on Eridan’s face as his features look tight, strained, as though he’s absolutely infuriated that you would dare cross into his most private-

…no…no he’s…not angry.

Stale silence hangs in the air between you as your eyes meet and you realize he isn’t mad at you…he’s _unmistakably terrified_ of you.

And somehow, _that_ is harder for you to swallow.

"You..." You stammer, clearing your throat. "You...left some baggage behind."

Understatement of the fucking century, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SET UP
> 
> If this chapter felt rushed and hectic that's probably because it was rushed and hectic. But I needed to set them up for the Big Talk (c) in the next chapter which is honestly probably going to push 10000 words. I haven't started writing it yet but given that it's almost entirely dialogue it's going to be a doozy. 
> 
> So enjoy the break, nerds, because next time Eridan is going through a goddamn table like an ECW alumni trying to recapture the glory days. 
> 
> PS. The fact that Eridan is a Highlander nerd is almost solely because of Born of a Sign That Carries Vessels by sonicSymphony. Those who have read that fic (and it should be all of you) and have seen the Highlander TV series (which should be none of you) will understand.


	7. I Saw Your Ghost Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor CW for a brief discussion of self harm/suicide attempts (nothing graphic but still)

**> >Eridan: Talk**

Thanks, but you don’t much feel like talking right now. 

Right now you want to focus on the bubbling kettle in front of you, still trying to find something to say to the familiar stranger you found breaking into your house. Tea making is serious business after all; ten years in Japan with the VOC and another twelve in the employ of the locals had drilled that into your head. And though a certain artist friend would have clucked, shook her head, and raised a delicate eyebrow at the mismatched coffee mugs you are collecting to serve tea in (were she not more than three hundred and ninety years dead) you are no less serious about your task.

A _seriousness_ that requires absolute silence, you assure yourself.

**> >Feferi: Talk**

When you were three and a half, you would have tea parties because that’s just what proper little noble trolls did with their time. Eridan had _insisted_ on it even after you claimed not to like tea or tea parties or anything having to do with tea except teacakes. You can still remember the look of horror on his face when you poured so much milk and sugar into the scant amount of tea for the first time ( _“Fef you can hardly taste the tea that way!”; “That’s the point!!”_ ) and the way he grumbled and muttered every time he fixed you a cup of milk with a drop of tea thereafter.

You miss that mumbling and grumbling now because _that_ would be leagues better than the silent treatment he's giving you right now.

You’re still trying to find the words to say, dying to fill the silence of the kitchen with something other than the sounds of his boots clacking on the floor as he bustled about setting tea. His return seemed to shock the words out of you and now you sat at his kitchen table, watching his back as he hunched over the stove and filled a teapot with boiling water.

He hasn’t said a word since you got into the kitchen.

**> >Eridan: Talk**

She’s angry with you; why else would she have come all this way?

Feferi had never been one to let her displeasure go unvoiced and given the fact that she whipped her shoe at the back of your head with enough force to kill a mortal man, you imagine she’s here to say her piece.

…if only she would _start_ already because this damned silence is killing you.

**> >Feferi: Talk**

He must be upset with you; that’s why he isn’t saying anything.

_You_ would be upset with _him_ if you came home one day to find him rooting around your house and going through your personal affects. He hadn’t screamed at you or demanded that you get out but the suggestion he made that you take your conversation upstairs certainly made it clear he didn’t want you in his basement as did the way he followed you out of the library, closing each door and turning off the lights as you left. You should probably apologize for that at some point...

...well, now seems like as good a time as any

“I’m-”

**> >Eridan: Talk**

“How do you take it?” You say at long fucking last, turning around and carrying the tray over to the table. Her mouth is half open as though you’ve just interrupted an important thought, glancing up at the tray and pressing her lips together as you slowly walk around the side of the table.

**> >Feferi: Talk**

“Uh…same as always,” You say after a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you for a long moment until you realize he must have no earthly clue how you take your tea anymore.

“Oh…that's okay; I’ll do it,” You say, reaching for the saucer of cream and bowl of sugar as he carefully picks up the teapot, tipping it into your mug until it stops about halfway up the inside of the cup. He might not know the particulars but he remembers that the only way you’re going to drink tea is if it no longer tastes like anything resembling tea anymore. You add enough cream and sugar to your cup to turn your drink a light caramel color while he fills his own mug to the brim with tea so dark you can't see the bottom.

( _He grimaced when he drank bitter tea as a kid but insisted that he was enjoying it. "It's how proper trolls drink it, Fef, it has nothing to do with whether I like it or not!")_

“Thank you,” You murmur, bringing the cup to your lips with a small sip as he takes his place across the table, sitting up in the only other chair in the kitchen as silence once again descends on you.

“You changed your hair,” He blurts out after a moment, hand absently touching his own hair as you look up from your cup. He looks like he’s going to say something else for a second but apparently thinks better of it, filling his mouth with a sip of bitter tea instead and averting his gaze a little.

“…you did too,” You say after a moment. It’s then you noticed the bruises, black eyes, and split lip have vanished, leaving smooth unblemished skin behind. You knew that your new body was stronger and would recover from any damage it sustained but you're surprised to see him looking relatively unscathed in front of you.

“Huh? Oh,” His hand touches his forelocks absentmindedly. “Yeah the um…thing.”

“Can’t imagine it was easy to find hair dye back then, was it?” You say softly.

“Not really,” He shrugs, letting out a small sigh as the room once again goes painfully quiet.

“I’m sorry,” You finally blurt out, drawing his wandering, uncomfortable gaze back to your eyes with a sudden focus that sends a small shiver up your spine for reasons you can’t quite place. “I…I shouldn’t have just barged in like I did. I got here and I was waiting around in the back when I found this key and I just-”

“Nep gave it to you, didn’t she?” He asks as though he already knows the answer.

“…she did,” You say, figuring it's better to be honest.

“And I suppose Air Harley is how you managed to beat me here, right?” He says, again already knowing that that is the only possible explanation for how you beat him home despite having an hour’s head start.

“Don’t be mad at them,” You say, fingers tapping against your tea mug absently.

“I’m not,” Eridan shrugs, taking another sip of tea. “You would have gotten here with or without Harley’s assistance and if Nep hadn’t shown you the key, you would have probably figured out another way to get in, right?”

You don’t care for the insinuation that you would have smashed a window or something but he’s not entirely wrong; it was that or wait on his front porch for a few hours and you're sure the end result would have been equally unpleasant for him.

“You didn’t leave much of a choice,” You say, meeting his gaze resolutely. “Since you weren’t that eager to hear what I had to say back on the island.”

“That why you’re here?” He asks, raising a brow. “To talk?”

“That and I think you still have my other sandal,” You say with a dry laugh.

“I seem to remember you givin’ that to me,” He retorts, lip twitching a little. “At high velocity.”

He sits up a little, reaching behind him and tugging your sandal out of his back pocket which he then lays on the table and slides it across to you like it’s an envelope full of money or something.

“Surprisingly, flyin’ with a shoe in your back pocket isn’t the most comfortable experience in the world,” Eridan says, leaning back in his chair.

“You didn’t think to keep it on your lap or something?” You ask, tossing your shoe in front of your suitcase behind you.

“Thought of it...but I didn’t fancy being the weird bloke flyin' with a lady’s shoe on his lap,” Eridan shrugs and you almost laugh at how he’s still making himself miserable to avoid looking foolish after all these years.

"So I imagine you're not surprised to see me then," You say.

“Not really,” He says, voice catching in his throat for a second before he clears it, running a hand through his hair. “Imagine you had one or two things to say to me.”

“Talking usually requires two people,” You remind him.

“I dunno; talked to myself plenty of times over the years,” Eridan chuckles as once again a drawn out silence fills the room.

“Why did you leave?” You say after a moment, glancing up at him as he stares at the wall behind your head.

“Left the kettle on,” Eridan says, lip twitching as your own expression remains grim. “…I sensed it was time to make my escape before I made a complete jackass of myself…too late for that though, right?”

“You’d be surprised,” You say softly. “You didn’t have to leave.”

“No one wanted me there,” Eridan shrugs.

“I did,” You blurt out, surprising both you and him. He blinks, shifting a little uncomfortably under your gaze as he stares into his tea.

“Didn’t know,” Eridan says crisply. “Got the opposite impression to be quite honest.”

“You…surprised me,” You say. “I didn’t expect to see you there.”

“Well Kar loves his little surprises, doesn’t he?” Eridan chuckles, drumming his fingers on the table. “I would have… _alerted_ you but-”

“It’s fine,” You say, waving him off. “I don’t think you even have my address, do you?”

“No,” He grunts.

“…you never really looked though, did you?” You say, a little more accusatory then you intend.

“No,” He repeats faster than you expected him to, jaw set and both hands gripping the back of his chair. “Can’t say I did.”

“Figured,” You say more to yourself than anyone else.

“Figured you had better things to do,” Eridan replies.

“Better things?” You echo.

“You had just come back,” Eridan says, shifting in his chair a little. “You didn’t need me hangin’ over your head like a black fuckin’ cloud.”

“…well, I’m glad you seem to know what I need more than I do,” You say, lips tightening a little.

“Oh don’t tell me you fuckin’ missed me,” Eridan sighs, shaking his head.

“And what if I did?” You say as Eridan looks at you like you’ve just sprouted tentacles from your ears.

“You could have told me you spent the last six thousand years doing ballet on the moon and I would believe _that_ before I believe you missed me,” Eridan says, downing the rest of his cup and reaching to pour himself another.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” You ask as a pained expression flits across his face so fast you wonder if you saw it at all.

“Why do you think?” He mutters, looking away.

“I can’t imagine why,” You say, sipping your tea. “Could it have something to do with the fact that you killed me?”

He sucks in breath through his nose, jaw tensing as he forces himself to meet your eye. Is this why he’s so scared of you? Does he think you’re some kind of avenging spirit looking to even the odds or a harpy here to torment him until the end of time? 

“You don’t have to say it like that,” Eridan replies testily.

“I’m sorry; do you not like being reminded?” You reply curtly.

“You think I would forget somethin’ like that?” He asks.

“You seem to have forgotten a few things here and there,” You reply, tapping your cup intently.

“Right; because _that’s_ the same thing,” Eridan snorts. “A tea order and the fact that I killed the only three people who ever really gave a damn about me are completely the same thing.”

“Don’t get snippy at me for asking,” You huff, staring into your tea. “I genuinely didn’t know if you remembered or-”

“I did,” He interrupts, getting out of his chair as though he’s going to go somewhere. You’re on your feet in the next moment, so fast that he falters and stumbles against the back door. You stop for a moment as though you’re handling a skittish deer, keeping your distance as he folds his arms, slowly taking a step off the wall.

“Why did you come here?” He asks.

“I told you, I-”

“Wanted to talk; yeah yeah,” He mutters as a small rush of anger flushes through your stomach. You’re getting fairly sick of being interrupted. “Couldn’t’ve taken a plane or a boat? Surely _you_ can’t be strapped for cash.”

“I wanted to get here before you did,” You reply, resisting the urge to grind your teeth in frustration.

“Why?”

“To stop you from doing something stupid,” You retort.

“Like what?” He chuckles. “Kill myself? Because if that were possible we wouldn’t be having this conversation today.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” You sigh, shaking your head. “You wouldn’t even try.”

“Really?” He snorts, hands on his hips.

"Really," You insist.

“You seem awfully certain of that, _lass_.”

“Excuse me?” You reply, fuchsia staining your face in indignation. “As one of the three people who cared about you, _your words not mine_ , I think I have a _pretty_ good grasp on who you are and what you're likely to do.”

“Is that right?” He says, shaking his head in an almost pitying way that makes your skin prickle.

"More or less," You reply.

“I suppose you think you have me all figured out then, don’t you?”

“Better than anyone else,” You reply, hands balling into fists at your side.

“Then why,” He pauses, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Why am I so damn certain that there’s no way for a god to kill themselves, hm?”

You open your mouth, ready to shoot back a reply about how, for all his histrionics, the Eridan that you knew thought too highly of himself to consider doing himself any serious harm but his eyes give you pause as his gaze never wavers, not even for a second. As if he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can carefully and completely explain to you in all the myriad of ways you are completely wrong.

And suddenly...you're not quite so sure about him anymore. Maybe you've never been; maybe you didn't know Eridan any better than you know the person standing in front of you now.

“…why?” You say through clenched teeth after a long moment.

“Why do you _think_?” He shoots back. “Come on; you know me, right? Or, that is to say you _knew_ me. One letter; one world of difference.”

If he expects you to shrink back when he takes a step forward, he must be disappointed as he looks at you with an expression torn between hurt and indignation.

“You _knew_ me,” He repeats. “For a very _very_ short time a very _very_ long time ago. Six…six thousand years passed in a bloody blink for you, didn’t it? Not for me; I took the long path.”

“That was _your_ choice,” You remind him, wishing you didn’t have to look up at him so far; it makes you feel like a wriggler.

“It _was_ ,” He nods. “And you’re conveniently leaving out the fact that you were the one frozen in time; not me.”

“I know that,” You snap. “I’m not a wriggler, Eridan-”

“I’m not a _child_ either,” He retorts, breathing hard now.

“You could have fooled me!” You reply, resisting the urge to stomp your feet. “You’re acting pretty damn childish from where I’m standing!”

“Then maybe you need to change your perspective,” He shoots back. “Because it doesn't seem like you're seeing things as clearly as you think you are, _Princess_!"

**> >Feferi: Smack a beach.**

You could blame it on a lot of things.

You could blame it on a lack of sleep or the fact you're running on milk tea and grocery store sushi ( _Irish_ grocery store sushi). You could blame him for poking you so much or being such an insufferable know it all. You could call it revenge for the fact that he killed you or anger that he was thinking of taking his life and leaving you to wonder where he had gone once you came back. But in the end, those are just excuses.

The truth of the matter is that Eridan Ampora could use a good slap across the face in your humble opinion.

A cold, crisp smack echoes throughout the empty house, sending a shockwave through your open palm as Eridan jerks left and nearly spins around as the force of your blow sends him careening into the table with a splintering crash of wood and shattering of porcelain as his tea set comes crashing to the ground alongside him. A small part of you has been waiting to deliver that slap for a very long time now if only to savor the satisfaction of smacking that stupid boy upside his head for all the dumb things he did to the two of you in the past.

**> >Feferi: Savor the satisfaction.**

…you’re trying to.

The anger that drove the slap is slowly ebbing out of your body as Eridan groans under the pile of scrap that used to be his kitchen table and you wait for the tell-tale rush of vindication to replace it.

...any second now.

**> >Feferi: Savor the satisfaction.**

…you’re still trying to.

“God… _damn it_ , woman,” Eridan wheezes, brushing the scraps of wood off his body as he slowly sits up, a dark purple bruise forming on his cheek. “You have...a helluva left cross, you know that?”

**> >Feferi: Savor some satisfaction, damnit.**

You honestly wish you could.

Because you just slapped the boy who was a whiny, needy, melodramatic part of your life for a long _long_ time. You just smacked the guy who was so painfully terrible as a friend and as a moirail that you couldn’t stand to talk to him in the last few perigrees of your friendship. He killed you for crying out loud so why can’t you take some satisfaction in getting a slap in? Why aren’t you savagely satisfied right now? If your life was a sitcom and you had just slapped your jerk of an ex, the internet would be exploding in jubilation, the scene gifed so many times with so many different hashtags across it. This would have been your freaking moment to shine…but it doesn’t feel that way.

Eridan slowly pulls himself to his feet as your eyes linger on the orchid you had revitalized an hour or so before now crushed and completely trampled beneath the broken table. You reach for a chair as Eridan passes you on the way to the fridge, sinking into the seat as a dull pain throbs through your hand. If this is what satisfaction feels like, you have to say it's a criminally overrated sensation. 

“Here,” You look up to see Eridan pressing an icepack to his face, and offering you one for your hand. You stare at it for a second before taking it, hissing as the ice slowly melts the pain away. “This may not be permanent but it’ll still hurt like a bitch; take it from me.”

He sits in the chair opposite you as you both stare at the wreckage of the broken table between you.

“I’m sorry,” You mutter, as though that will erase what just happened.

“S’alright,” He mumbles as the bruise already seems to be disappearing from his face. “I expect I had that comin’...and hey, if it makes you feel any better-”

“It doesn’t,” You say, pressing the ice pack against your eyes as you let out a long, shaky sigh. “I don’t know why I did that…”

“I can’t imagine why,” He muses, lips twitching into a small smirk. “Could it have somethin’ to do with the fact that I killed you?”

“…no,” You say after a long moment, letting out a breath like you’re trying to loosen up the tightness in your chest. “It’s not that.”

“Really,” He says, tossing the ice pack into the sink as his cheek slowly resumes its greyish hue. “Because I don’t think a soul in the world would begrudge you if it was.”

“I know,” You sigh, flexing your hand uncomfortably as you work up the courage to look him in the eye. He works his jaw a little, rubbing the spot where your hand made contact a few moments before. “…does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse,” Eridan shrugs. “Not the first time I’ve been knocked on my ass by life and certainly won’t be the last time.”

“Eridan…”

“Come on; that was funny,” Eridan says with a lopsided smile that refuses to budge your exhausted expression. “ _Life_ …knocked down by…get it? Because you’re the Witch of Life and...really? Nothin'?"

You refuse to smile, shaking your head as you stare up at the ceiling.

"Tough crowd," Eridan mutters.

"How did we get here?" You mutter mostly to yourself. 

"On a plane," He says simply. "Not you, though; you got here via magical teleporting dog."

"Be serious," You sigh, looking back down at him.

"How was that not serious?" He says, a small lopsided grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You _did_ get here via Lassie the Wonder-" 

“Do you hate me or something?” You say it and his smile slips from his face, replaced with an intensely uncomfortable look as he leans back and runs his hand through his hair. 

“…why would you think that?” He murmurs.

“Why do you think?” You say with a shaky smile. He leans forward with a sigh, leaning his elbows on his thighs and lip caught between his teeth. "Is that why you didn't want to talk to me? Is...is that why you-"

“I don’t…I don’t hate you,” He says in a steady, calm voice as he looks up into your eyes. Your hand flexes around the ice pack as you scan his expression for any sign of deceit. You don’t find any but he may have gotten better at lying over the years.

“Never?” You ask as he leans away from you, hands cradling the back of his head as he stares aimlessly at the ceiling for a long, quiet moment.

“…not when I knew you,” He answers, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have hated absolutely everyone and everythin’ at one point or another for the first thousand years or so…because I was miserable and alone and it had to be someone’s fault, didn’t it? So…one by one I would spend my days sittin’ on rocky cliffs or nights sleepin’ in batty caves silently loathin’ you and Kar and Kan and Sol and just about everyone I ever met. It was your fault, I reasoned, that I was so lonely and miserable and so criminally bored I wanted to die.”

Water begins to collect on your hand as your ice pack begins to melt but you say nothing as he continues to look at the ceiling as though he’s trying to see the night sky through it.

“…but…bit by bit I had to come to the realization that there was no one to blame but myself,” He snorts, looking back down at the floor with a thoughtful grimace. “Nobody's fault but mine. So…I stopped hatin’ everyone and everythin’ and started layin’ blame where blame needed to be laid…”

“Did that help?” You ask, chewing on the inside of your lip. “Blaming yourself, I mean…did it make you feel better?”

“Doesn’t matter if it made me feel better,” He says, shaking his head. “It was the gods’ honest truth. I was the one who…who made such a fuckin’ mess of things-”

“So _you_ had to be the one to suffer for it,” You finish, flexing your hand as you toss the ice pack into the sink with a wet thump. “Is that it?”

“If not me then who?” Eridan says, spreading his hands. 

“…that’s how you figured out that we can’t hurt ourselves,” You say, swallowing a sudden lump in your throat. “Isn’t it?”

He opens his mouth as if to say something a few times before trailing off, shaking his head as though the thought of it embarrasses him somehow.

“I always…always acted as judge, jury and executioner,” Eridan laughs, looking over your shoulder with a distant expression. “With Kan, with them lusi, with…you…and there was no one else was fit to hold trial when it was my turn so…judge…jury…but not executioner. My luck, innit? The one time I actually wanted to kill somethin’ and I couldn't...life's a bitch like that. Present company excluded of course."

You never thought someone could look so old and so young at the same time as he struggles to explain himself to you like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. You came here for remorse and by god are you getting it by the bucketful.

“…why?” You ask after a moment’s silence.

“Search me,” Eridan sighs. “Don’t really know why we can’t seem to hurt ourselves it’s just-”

“Why did you _try_?” You ask, clenching your aching hand at the hem of your shorts. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?” Eridan laughs, shaking his head as you see a glimmer of violet in his eyes. “Fef I…I killed you. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“You did?” You say with a watery chuckle, glancing down at yourself in feigned surprise. “You could have fooled me.”

“Fef-”

“I’m,” You say with the barest hint of a waver in your voice. “I’m _not_ dead. And even if I was…even if I was never coming back, how would killing yourself make anything better? How would that even anything out?" 

He opens and closes his mouth, looking around as if a justification is going to crawl out of the wall and present itself to him.

“Is that why you don’t want to see me? Because you’re…worried I’m going to take my revenge or something?” You ask quietly.

“Why else-”

“Why else would I be here?” You sniff, shaking your head. “Maybe…maybe I wanted to see what it was going to be like after I’ve lived a couple thousand years. Maybe I just wanted to track down someone who used to be my friend figure out how we went from underwater tea parties to fighting and killing each other in an alien death game. Maybe I wanted to know if he hated me after all those sweeps as friends or maybe…maybe I just wanted to tell him that I forgive him. For everything that happened before the game and-”

Oh…so _that’s_ what he’s afraid of.

You should have guessed but the way he’s looking at you like you’re crazy, subtly shaking his head and almost flinching out of his chair as you slowly stand up. He’s looking at you like you’re approaching with a bloody meat cleaver, recoiling as though you mean to split him in half. You realize he’s probably prepared himself for any number of gruesome punishments or executions he could suffer at your hands, having had nothing but time to think about it.

But he never prepared himself to be forgiven.

“Why?” He chokes out after a moment, biting his lip. “You…you can’t just-”

“I can,” You say firmly. “I can…and I have. Why is that so hard to accept?”

“I don’t…I don’t…” He mumbles, pulling away from you as you take another step closer. “I don’t deserve to-”

“That’s not up to _you_ ,” You say as he stands up so fast he knocks his chair over. He doesn’t look so tall or imposing pressed against the back wall, eyes wide and nostrils flared as his breathing becomes ever more frantic as you close the distance. “You don’t get to decide whether or not you deserve to be forgiven…that’s my choice. Mine and mine alone.”

He is shaking like a leaf when you press your hand against his chest and touch him for the first time in nearly six thousand years, reckless slaps notwithstanding. Judging by his reaction, your fingers on his chest hurt him worse than slapping him across the face. He expected the slap though; he expected you to rain blows on him or scream at him or anything other than offer forgiveness.

He still can’t understand why though. 

**> >Feferi: Make him understand.**

“I’m tired…” You mumble, biting your lip and craning your neck up at him. “I’m so…sick of this _mess_. I’m so sick of that game still running our lives. I thought things were going to be different once we won…once it was all over…but it isn’t, is it?"

"We won though..." He muses.

"Did we?" You ask, cocking your head to one side. "Feels more like we just _survived_ and I'm still waiting for my prize."

"Immortality, eternal youth, fabulous wealth and magic powers not enough for you?" Eridan snorts.

"No," You reply flatly. "Not really..."

"Well you don't want much do you-" His words die in his throat as you press a hand against the side of his face where you slapped him before. This seems to stun him into silence so maybe you'll be able to get out what you mean to say before he interrupts again.

"I...I want everything that got taken from me back," You say, counting the strands on his sweater because it's easier than looking him in the eye right now. "I want our lives back before the game...back before we were all killing and dying and just struggling to survive. I want the friendships we lost back and the lives that got ruined back and just _once_ I would like to get together with the only ten close friends I have left in literally the entire universe without any fighting or crying or misery. I don't care about any other reward the game felt like throwing me because a boatload of cash is-"

( _A boy stands on the deck of the boat, shining his flashlight down into the water as your head breaks the surface, clutching a large plush seahorse as you shoot him an impeccably toothy grin.)_

_(He shucks the clams you toss him, looking for pearls because you're almost four sweeps old and you both want some swanky pearl gillrings. Like pirates used to have, he says.)_

_(You watch the thrashing white tentacles suck down another screaming lusus, clutching the hem of his cape as neither of you look away from the cloud of white blood filling the water.)_

“-a boatload of cash and superpowers are nothing if I can't have my friends back," You mutter quietly. " _That's_ what I want; I want the good old days back."

“What…” Eridan finally croaks out with a bemused expression. “What “good old days” are you talkin’ about?”

“Back before the game,” You murmur. “Back when-”

“Back when Vris was feedin’ people to her mom and Kar was livin’ under the daily threat of cullin’?” Eridan laughs, wiping his eyes as you look up at him. “Back when you had a world-destroyin’ lusus to feed and a miserable shitheel of a moirail? Those good old days?”

You withdraw your hand as he slowly slides down the wall, coming to a rest on the kitchen floor as he looks up at you. Things aren't so rosy when he puts it that way

“There _were_ no good old days,” He sniffs, fingers combing through his hair absently. “Not back home…not in the game…not for anyone. Least none I can remember…”

You sigh, slowly kneeling down in front of him and sitting cross legged a foot or so away from him as he looks at you suspiciously from behind his bent knees.

“There were some,” You shrug, wiping your eyes on the back of your hand. “When we were young…back before…”

“Before I evolved into a species of bottom feeding asshole?” Eridan snorts.

“…yeah,” You admit, earning a small chuckle from him. “Maybe they were few and far between but…we were friends once, remember?”

“Vaguely,” He mutters, shaking his head as you idly pick at a loose strand on your shorts.

“…do you remember when we were three and a half and your lusus took us diving for pearls?” You say hesitantly, watching his brow furrow as a small flash of understanding crosses his eyes.

“I seem to remember sittin’ on the beach and shuckin’ clams you threw at me,” He mutters, looking down with a small twitch of his lips.

“You could have dove with me if you weren’t scared of drowning,” You say with a small, hesitant smile.

“Think the best I could manage was hangin’ on that old eel’s side while you swam around below,” Eridan chuckles.

“Eel?”

“My father... _lusus_ ,” Eridan explains. “Big white eel…right?”

“…he was a seahorse,” You say softly, watching as his face falls, confusion washing over him as he wraps his arms around his knees.

“Really?” He says. “Huh…you must be right I guess…”

“Do you not…remember?” You ask, feeling your stomach clench a little as he grits his teeth, furrowing his brow as if trying to do calculus in his head before letting his head drop forward onto his knees.

**> >Eridan: Remember.**

You try as hard as you can to remember the face of the creature that raised you; try so hard to remember his voice or how you got on. Even a name would suffice but…there’s nothing. You worked so hard to forget the selfish, stupid, foolish boy you used to be that so much of your time on Alternia is a hazy blur.

“No,” You mumble into your knees. “I can…I can remember the faces of people I met a hundred generations ago but…I can’t remember my own fuckin’ father. I can…I can hardly remember anythin’ from back then…none of the details at least.”

You didn’t want to remember because remembering your lusus or your pearl diving excursion or anything from Alternia would force you to remember what a sniveling little bastard you were. And after so many years of distancing yourself from that miserable little fuck, you suppose you can’t very well remember anything you did while you were him. You don't want to, at any rate, but you suppose that means you threw the proverbial baby out with the proverbial bathwater.

Something soft and cool presses itself onto the back of your neck, lightly squeezing you until you look up. Feferi is leaning forward, hand resting on the back of your neck and staring at you with a small, teary smile you don’t deserve. You don’t deserve any of this except for the slap across the face and yet she was offering you an olive branch. A second chance. A second chance wasted on your miserable ass.

But then again, it isn’t your decision, is it?

“So there were no good old days,” Feferi admits, wiping her eyes as she leans forward on her knees. “Okay…then maybe it’s high time we made some, hm?”

You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes, ashamed at the fact that you can’t stop the well of guilt inside you from spilling out your eyes in dark purple streaks. God damnit you’re supposed to be the wise, sage, immortal prince, immune to emotional outbursts…but even after six thousand years, some things just don’t change.

“You’re right,” She says again, sniffling (oh god you had to make her cry, didn’t you?). “I don’t know anything about you anymore…but I'd like to, if you'll let me.”

She slowly stands up, brushing her shorts off and holding a hand out to you as you struggle to pull yourself up off the wall. You let out a small, shaky sigh as you look at her hand, taking it with a small squeeze as she hauls you to your feet in one, fluid motion. God damn she was strong; she could break you in half if she felt like but her grip on your hand is gentle enough to make you forget that fact for a brief moment.

For a moment your hands linger on each other, neither of you letting go as you rather awkwardly stand in the middle of your destroyed kitchen as a troubled look suddenly crosses her face as though she remembered something unpleasant.

**> >Feferi: Talk**

You glance down at the floor for a moment, biting your lip as you try and find a way to tactfully bring up the little incident on the island. You had gotten so wrapped up in your own stuff that you neglected the small matter of there being one less of you because of Eridan’s choices. You glance back up at the jagged scar that cuts his face in half, the remnant of some kind of claw that left its mark deep in his skin. He pulls back as if your free hand that moves to touch the scar is moving towards a raw, open wound.

“…what happened?” You ask softly as he slips his hand out of your grip, clenching it a little as he shifts his gaze away.

“…why did you do it?” You ask as lets out a humorless laugh. “Why did you-“

“Kill him?" He finishes with a heavy swallow. "Well, I expect it's because it’s the only thing I was ever good at-"

“You know that’s not true,” You sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You expect this is just more theatrics...hopefully. But that's a conversation for another day if he _isn't_ actually being over dramatic.

“Was it for a good reason?” You ask. He opens his mouth, glancing around the kitchen as if torn between two answers before closing it with a deep sigh. He made no apologies; no excuses. Apparently he couldn’t decide whether he did it for a good reason or not. Though truth be told that isn’t the question you’re most concerned about…

“…is it going to happen again?” You ask, almost dreading the answer.

“No,” He says quickly and firmly as his gaze lands on yours again. “Not again...never again.”

He doesn’t falter under your gaze as you look him over for any sign of deceit or subterfuge. But you suppose if he intended to kill each and every single one of you, he might have started with Nepeta or (at the very least) you while you were alone in a windowless basement with him.

You suppose you're going to have to try and trust him.

“…alright,” You sigh after a long moment and Eridan lets out a breath he had been holding for god knew how long.

“You…believe me?” He asks a little hesitantly.

“I’m choosing to,” You answer, tilting your head back and forth. “Is that a mistake?”

“No!” He replies, holding his hands up. “I mean…I don’t think it is…I mean I’m not goin’ to give you a reason to regret it…I mean-”

He trails off as you fail to suppress a snort of laughter, fins flushing purple as he shuffles awkwardly in front of you. Still such an irredeemable dork, even (especially) when he’s trying to be serious. You forgot how much that amused you and how much it used to infuriate him but judging by his nervous chuckle those days seem to be over.

“So…” He says, scratching the back of his neck. “Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly. “I want to…try and move forward. All of us…at least the ones that are left.”

His face scrunches a little at your last remark but you brush it off, clasping your hands behind your back.

“…I’d like that,” He says after a moment. “If you really think that’s somethin’ that’s possible. Doubt Tav or Sol or Kan will be so understandin’.”

“Leave them to me,” You say, not really knowing how you’re going to get them to start working with (if not ever  _liking_ ) Eridan again. “I’ll...think of something.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Eridan snorts, paling as you shoot him a small scowl. “What? You’d need a whole legion of them Aux…Auxill…shit, what were those club-quadrant whores called back home?”

“Auxiliatrixes,” You chuckle.

"Yeah, them; you’d need a whole legion of them to smooth over the mess I’ve made of things,” He says, bending down to pick up a splintering leg of what used to be his table.

“You’re either overestimating your ability to do harm-”

“Um…”

“ _Lasting_ harm,” You amend, once again gesturing to your whole, living self. “Or you’re underestimating my ability to make people get along when I want them to and I don’t know what’s worse.”

“If you say so,” He mutters, tossing the leg back onto the pile of broken wood with a small sigh. “I’d offer you a midnight snack but I seem to be plum out of places to eat.”

“Sorry,” You say, kicking a stray piece of wood back on the pile. “I’ll replace it…unless it was some kind of antique you bought in like the middle ages or something.”

“Yeah…I bought it in the middle ages,” Eridan snorts, rolling his eyes. “I saw a lacquered, machine tooled table at ye olde crafte faire in King Arthur's court and bought it for ten pence and a chicken. Then I carried it around the world on my back until I set up shop here in the- _ow_!”

“Oh, come on,” You snicker, watching him rub his shoulder where you lightly smacked him. “If I wanted to really hurt you I could have.”

“Don’t I know it,” He mutters, rubbing his cheek as he stifles a small yawn. Tension has ebbed out of your body and nearly twenty four hours without sleep is finally catching up with you as you find yourself smothering a yawn in the palm of your hand. “…guessin’ you wanted to stay the night?”

“If it’s not too much to ask,” You respond, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand.

“No…reckon we could both use a good night’s sleep…maybe a good day’s sleep too,” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know; I might just sleep for a thousand years like all the cool kids are doin’.”

“And wake up with thousand year old bedhead,” You snicker, running a hand through your hair as he snags your suitcases with a small grunt on the way out of the kitchen.

“Don’t really have what you’d call a guest bedroom…though I’m sure you’ve managed that by now,” Eridan says, nodding upstairs.

“I…promise I didn’t go through your drawers or anything,” You chuckle, rubbing your arm nervously.

“S’fine; you can take my bed; I’ll crash on the couch,” He says, starting up the steps.

“Oh, no that’s fine!” You say, waving him off.

“Wouldn’t exactly be a good host if I let my guests just crash on the floor,” Eridan says, turning before you stop him with a hand on his sleeve. “Hm?”

“I…I actually had another idea,” You say, cheeks flushing fuchsia at the mere thought of what you’re going to ask. “Something that might make things a little more comfortable…for the both of us.”

He pauses halfway up the steps, brow furrowing as he tries to work out what you’re asking.

"Are you...are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, glancing up the stairs. 

"Oh come on, you _have_ to have thought about doing it at least once!" You stammer, suddenly feeling a little foolish.

"I've _thought_ about it but I don't know how well it would work..." He mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

"Well...we wouldn't know unless we tried, right?" You say, rocking back and forth as he seems to consider it.

“You… _seriously_ want to fill my bathtub up and sleep in it like a slime-cocoon or something?” Eridan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“More than anything in the world,” You reply. “I mean I haven’t had a tub big enough since I got here and since it’s so hard to sleep in those-”

You trail off as a small rumble of laughter shakes his shoulders, catching in the back of his throat as he tries to smother it with his hand to save your dignity.

“What?!” You demand, fins fluttering anxiously.

“Oh…nothin’,” Eridan says, wiping the corner of his eye. “I just forgot how fuckin’ weird _aliens_ were, that’s all.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, stomping up the stairs after him. “You know you’re an “alien” too, mister!”

“Oh, please, I’m more local than anything else,” Eridan insists.

“Oh right because you were _totally_ born and raised here,” You say with an exasperated sigh and roll of your eyes. “I forgot.”

“Hmm…I spent thirteen years on Alternia, two years in Paradox Space and six-thousand-two-hundred-and-ninety-six years on this planet,” He says, tilting his head back and forth. “Yeah, you’re right; it’s absolutely _ludicrous_ for me to think of this place as home.”

“Poser,” You snort under your breath.

“If I’m a poser then everyone livin’ today is a poser,” He says, opening the door to the upstairs bathroom. “Since I was doin’ this whole “livin’ on Altearthia” thing before they were.”

“Hipster,” You giggle, shucking off your shoes as he goes to fill the massive tub.

“Well…leopards can’t change all their spots,” Eridan shrugs, standing up as hot, steamy water fills the basin. “If you need anythin’ I’m…well, I guess you know where my bedroom is, don’t you?”

“I fed your fish already,” You say, unzipping your suitcase as Eridan grabs his duffle bag. “Don’t overfeed them!”

“Why would I do that?” Eridan sniffs.

“I don’t know; your plants are in pretty sorry shape,” You sigh, following him out of the room as the tub fills behind you.

“Can’t you just wave your witchy wand and make them all better?” Eridan asks, turning around as he backs towards his room.

“I could,” You shrug, leaning against the doorway. “But I wouldn’t want it to be a wasted effort. How do I know you’re going to take care of them once I leave?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs with a hesitant, lopsided smile. “…guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

“…I guess I will,” You smile in spite of yourself, shaking your head as you turn back towards the bathtub. “Goodnight, Eridan.”

"Wait."

**> >Eridan: Apologize**

It's too late to apologize.

It's too late.

**> >Eridan: Apologize anyway**

“I’m...I'm sorry.”

You say it before you can stop yourself and she pauses mid-turn, spinning back around to look at you curiously. You can already feel a wash of embarrassment as though you’re doing something phenomenally foolish but if there was ever a time to swallow the tattered remnants of your pride, now would be the time.

“Eridan,” She says softly. “I already-”

“I know…I know you said you forgive me or…whatever,” You mutter, clutching the straps of your duffel bag tightly as you will yourself not to look away from her. “But I need to say it…I’m sorry. That I was a horrible friend to you. That I was…needy and jealous and cowardly. I’m sorry I…I’m sorry I killed you…it wasn’t what I wanted but I did it and I’ve almost never been sorrier about anythin’ in my whole life.”

“I know it’s too little or too late but…there it is,” You sigh, forcing the lump in your throat back into your stomach. “Even if it doesn’t mean anything I-”

“It,” Feferi lets out a watery chuckle, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It means something to me.”

“It doesn’t make up for anythin’ though,” You mutter, sniffling in spite of yourself.

“No,” She sighs with a small smile. “No it doesn’t…but that still means something as far as I’m concerned.”

You’re feeling significantly less foolish and considerably more prone to blubbering if you linger in the hallway any longer…but the look on her face is enough to make you glad you said it. Even if it doesn’t make everything magically better. Even if she isn’t running into your arms, tearfully smiling. Even if there’s no yellow brick road that shows you where to go from here…as long as it means something to her, you’re glad you said it.

“Best, uh, best mind that tub,” You cough into your hand, nodding back towards the bathroom. “Don’t want it to overflow or…anythin’.”

“Right,” She nods, offering you a small smile as you back into your room slowly. “Goodnight, Eridan.”

“Goodnight, Fefer…goodnight Fef,” You say, returning a shaky, sleepy smile as you close the door behind you.

**> >Eridan: Try not to lose it**

That is going to be a very, very tall order.

Your bag slips from your hand as soon as you’re locked in your room, clattering on the floor as you smother a small sob in the neckline of your shirt. The last thing you want is for her to hear you unraveling like a scarf caught on a spike in a tornado. You bite down on your shirt hard enough to ruin it beyond repair as you slowly slide down the door, heels pressing into your eyes.

**> >Eridan: Breathe, damnit, breathe**

That is about all you _can_ do right now; breathe long, shaky breaths as though you’ve never breathed before in your entire life. It’s as though you’ve had bands of iron wound around your lungs since coming back to life; a pressure you had gotten so used to you thought that everyone walked around with the same dull, lingering tightness in their chest. You couldn’t (wouldn’t) remember a time when it wasn’t there, that grim inevitability that one day your past was going to come back with a vengeance and whatever you’d built over the years would have been washed away in a tide of just retribution.

You had prepared for that; made peace with it. Realized on some level your life was finally over after so much time living under a stay of execution. And on some level you just wanted it all over and done with; so tired of burying everyone who could possibly care about you and unwilling to face an eternity with people who would despise you.

But now you can breathe for what feels like the first time.

Of course you’re choking and blubbering into your shirt, on the verge of hyperventilating as you curl up on yourself in an attempt to smother your pitiful noise. But you’re breathing at least; chest rising and falling so rapidly you start to rattle the door. Tavros didn’t kill you; Feferi isn’t here to hurt you. Not even Kanaya or Sollux seriously attempted you any harm. They may still hate you for the rest of eternity but you get the feeling that there’s hope for the very first time in a long time…and that nearly makes you throw up.

Possibility is such a cruel thing. There’s a chance that you can build a fragile friendship with Feferi out of the ruined, waterlogged ashes of your first attempt but there’s an equal chance you and she will learn fresh ways to make each other’s lives miserable. You could fuck it up; you’ve fucked up so many things in the past statistics dictate that you’ll probably fuck this one up too.

**> >Eridan: So don’t fuck up.**

 You pull your shirt over your head with trembling hands, biting your lip as you toss it into the trash. You don’t know what you’re emotions are doing right now; you’re feeling equal doses of happiness, shame, fear, relief, and uncertainty full force and it’s all you can do to keep from grinding your teeth into powder. You don’t know what to do; you don’t know what to do for the first time since Paris and you’re _still_ not even over that.

You stumble out of your jeans, kicking them off your legs as you lean heavily on the bed, trying to regain control over yourself before you turned into a puddle.

**> >Eridan: Don’t fuck up.**

You don’t know if you can…she’s choosing to put her trust you and you’d never willingly break that trust…but that’s what you thought last time and look what happened.

How can you be sure you won’t inadvertently do it again?

** >>You don’t. **

You don’t. You don’t know that at all...but…there’s still hope that you might not horribly fuck everything up this time.

You’re not thirteen anymore. You’re not blinded by infatuation or desperate for approval. And god damnit if you haven’t learned how to not be a voracious cockgobbler by now then what have you learned?

(Besides fencing, sailing, and how to sell fish to medieval peasants that is.)

For some…insane reason she believes you aren’t going to hurt her anymore. She believes there’s enough decency in you to warrant staying in touch or even starting a new friendship with you. It’s absolute lunacy; you still can’t imagine why anyone would want to be friends with you but you will be dead and buried before you prove her wrong. You promise yourself that as you kneel, head pressed into the comforters as though you’re one of those idiots who pray to you on a weekly basis. Who are you supposed to pray to? Who are you supposed to believe in?

**> >Eridan: Pray to Karkat since apparently he’s in charge of that kind of thing**

The thought draws a laugh from you as you furiously rub the back of your eyes. You lean back, taking a deep breath and letting it out through your mouth. The storm has passed and like a beleaguered trailer park resident living in Tornado Alley, all you can do now is rebuild.

_How_ you're going to do that is a question for Tomorrow!Eridan because Tonight!Eridan is ten seconds away from passing out after two days with no sleep and if you spend any more time pondering the possibilities ahead of you, your head will explode.

You haul yourself into bed, head hitting the pillow as you roll over and stare up at the ceiling. You're thankful for so many things right now but mostly, you're just thankful to be alive. Alive and with your whole life ahead of you.

* * *

  **> >Feferi: Depart**

The cab is called, the flight is booked, your bags are packed; all there’s left to do is leave your note somewhere he can find it.

You feel slightly bad for cutting out without saying goodbye to Eridan but judging by the soft snores you heard when you pressed your ear against his bedroom door, he wouldn’t be waking up for some time. Besides, the pair of you could use a little breathing room to get used to each other again. Last thing you wanted to do was smother him and any lingering awkwardness could be safely dealt with online before you overdosed on it.

You make your way back upstairs after your little trip to Eridan’s back garden, creeping down the hall silently as you reach out for his doorknob, praying it isn’t locked. Surprisingly it gives under your touch but you wince as the loud creak of the unoiled hinges echo throughout the hall. You freeze but the snoring doesn’t stop so you decide to press on, intending to leave the note somewhere he can-

You suppress a small squeak as the doors open, looking over to where Eridan has flopped on top of the covers in only a pair of black boxers. The first thought that enters your mind is that new friends should probably not watch one another sleep half naked so you quickly turn away. Your second thought harkens back to something you heard Nepeta once say…that Eridan only had one scar _on his face_.

You glance back as he shifts in his sleep, watching lines of jagged, ropey scars crisscross his back and shoulder shift as his back muscles tense and relax under his skin. You really shouldn’t be staring like a creep but you’re sure threshecutioners twenty sweeps old wouldn’t have that many scars. You’re honestly surprised there’s enough of him left after whatever it was that got a hold on him…and why it seemed that some wounds scarred him while others (namely Tavros’ punch) healed without a blemish.

But that’s a conversation for another day…

A small snort draws you out of your reverie, glad he’s face down on the bed as you slowly creep over to his nightstand and drop the note on it. He mumbles something in his sleep, rolling over until he’s resting on his side facing you. There are purple tear tracks running down his face but he seems relaxed; peaceful almost. You glance down at his bare chest, noting that it was scarred a little lighter than his back. Still there were one or two long ones that ran from his shoulder down towards his- _oh it’s morning; would you look at the time._

Your face flushes as you turn around and abscond as quickly as you can without waking him up. You grit your teeth as the loud, creaky door closes behind you with a small click and you creep downstairs, grabbing your suitcase as you head out his back door, closing it and locking it behind you before you replace the key in the spot Nepeta showed you earlier. You take one last look at his backyard with a small, satisfied sigh before heading around the side of his house towards the street.

The clouds from yesterday seem to have parted and the mid-morning air is wonderfully cool and crisp. A small breeze ruffles your hair as you head down his walkway, feeling lighter than the last time you came down this way. This was the right call; a burdensome _why_ has been lifted from your shoulders and the day stretches out ahead of you, filled with more promise than the day you left behind. The road ahead may not be easy by any stretch of the imagination but god if you aren’t going to forge ahead regardless. It’s what you’ve done; it’s what you’ve always done. You are going to win back everything the game took from you and if nothing else…at least there's a very good chance you're going to have your idiot hipster friend back.

Your name is Feferi Peixes and it is so  _very_ good to be alive right now.

**> >Eridan: Wake up.**

The afternoon sunlight streams through your window, landing on a small, white card on your nightstand. For a minute, you lay sprawled on your side, groggy from what has to be the longest nap you’ve ever taken before weakly reaching out for the card, rubbing your eyes as you see Eridan scribbled on the front in fuchsia ink.

 

 

 

> Eridan,
> 
>   
>  Sorry I’m not )(ere to deliver t)(is in person but you seemed like you could use the rest. Don’t worry about t)(e table; I’ll fix everyt)(ing once I get back to sc)(ool! 
> 
> I’m glad we talked last nig)(t (really glad you didn’t report me for B&E). We may not )(ave )(ad a clean road )(ere but maybe we can )(ave a fres)( start going forward. I’d like to get to know you a little better. My trollian )(andle )(asn’t c)(anged if you were wondering! I meant it w)(en I said I wanted us to make a go of it again so don’t be a stranger because I certainly won’t be! Us aquatic gods need to stick toget)(er! 
> 
> Take care of yourself!
> 
> Fef 38) 
> 
> P.S. Go outside (key is under the mat; you beta keep your promise, mister!) 

 

Your thumbs glide over the raised, pinkish purple text a few times as you stare silently down at evidence that the previous evening hadn’t been some kind of bizarre hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation. The promise the simple letter represents is not lost on you as you carefully tuck it in the pages of a book and lay them carefully in your bedside table’s top drawer.

**> >Eridan: Get out of bed.**

That’s a terrible idea; no good has ever come out of anyone ever getting out of bed. In fact, World War Two could have all been avoided if everyone just-

**> >Eridan: Get up, you jackass.**

Rude.

Your feet touch the floor as you realize two things that make your face lose and suddenly gain its color within seconds of one another:

1) Your kitchen table is still a shattered pile of scrap wood, meaning you’re going to have to eat on a goddamn TV tray like you’re American or something.

2) The pair of shorts you’re currently wearing is very likely the only thing Feferi saw you in when she dropped the letter off on your nightstand.

You mutter a dark curse to yourself because six thousand year old gods do not (you repeat: do _not_ ) blush with embarrassment when they realize they’ve been unexpectedly half-dressed in front of their ex. They grunt and curse and stroke their hypothetical beards but they do _not_ (not) blush like fifteen year olds at the sight of Harry…Zayn…Styles...or whoever is popular now.

Got it?

**> >G-got it. **

Good.

**> >Eridan: Now that we’ve cleared that up, head downstairs.**

You take a quick peek inside the bathroom as you pass, craning your neck inside and snorting at the water still lingering in the rim of the tub. You cannot fucking believe she spent the entire night submerged underwater like a napping guppy; truth be told, for most of your life, you thought that the whole “trolls sleep in slime filled cocoons” was a particularly creative delusion you invented during roughly two thousand years of isloation. How that could be more comfortable than crashing in a pile of warm, soft blankets is beyond you on so many levels. It might be more comfortable with the slime in it but if you had a drop of that slime to begin with, you would have used it to-

**> >Eridan: Go downstairs.**

Shaking your head, you turn and plod down the stairs, shooting a glance into the kitchen at the pile of rubble as you pass on the way to the living room to see if the DVR was taping the-

You blink, stopping in the hallway as you slowly back towards the kitchen squinting out the window into your backyard illuminated by the sun setting over the roof of your house. You pad across the kitchen floor, wincing as a splinter brushes against the heel of your foot as you step out into a sea of purple and green that definitely wasn't there before.

The wilting, dried up garden you couldn’t keep alive if you tried was suddenly overgrown. Grass came up to your shins, sprouting a bevy of wildflowers in every hue of purple imaginable. Your hedges have sprouted blossoms as well, stretching up to almost your second floor window as ivy vines with white flowers creep up the sides of your house. Everything has not only come back to life but has flourished in ways you never thought possible.

_You beta keep your promise._

Your eyes begin to itch and water (probably from all the pollen, you assure yourself) as you sit beside one of the blossoming flower pots, watching the wind rustle through the grass and tiny specs of pollen dance in shafts of light reflected off your windows. Tomorrow, you’re going to look up a few botany textbooks to figure out how to keep all this managed in your often fickle client. You had long given up on trying to make this garden grow and part of you is still convinced that you’re going to kill these fucking flowers trying to take care of them.

But you promised you would try and Eridan Ampora doesn’t give less than his best.

You might still let them down but it won’t be for lack of trying. You are going to be the best possible caretaker they’ve ever had or die in the attempt and while both options might have seemed appealing before, the truth of the matter is that you would much rather live to see the look on Feferi’s face if she should return to see a lively, flourishing little corner of paradise she helped create.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you stare up at the darkening sky above you, relishing the faint possibility that tomorrow might be better than today was. It’s not an easy thing for you (then again, hope is never as easy as people make it out to be) but you suppose it wouldn’t kill you not to jump to the worst glubbing conclusion for once in your life. You’ve never allowed yourself to plan very far ahead for yourself, always worried that whatever plans you made would be ultimately undone in the end, but now…now you suppose you have to deal with the slightly nerve-wracking fact that you may live a long, relatively happy life.

You don’t know how to deal with that but you’re sure you’ll figure it out eventually…after all, you have forever to figure it out and at least one possible friend to make life worth living.

Your name is Eridan Ampora and for the first time, you would really rather not be anyone else in the world right now. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...wait did someone throw up in your violets?!

**End of Part One**

 

  
_Hope is like peace. It is not a gift from God. It is a gift only we can give one another._

_-Elie Wiesel_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends part one of this miraculous adventure known as this fanfiction. AKA The Angsty Part. AKA The Part Where I Used Most Of The Usable Lyrics From Ghost On The Dance Floor Why Oh God Why Did I Choose A Three Minute Pop Punk Song To Write A Story On. 
> 
> RE: Eridan's memory; It's an extremely selective thing. The reason he can remember the Bronze Age but not his own lusus is because he never made an effort to hold on memories of Alternia, writing it off as the worst time of his life. He remembers it as a violent place where everyone and everything was unhappy and that's essentially where his memory ends. 
> 
> So at the halfway point I'd like to ask for two things. First I need a name of city and a name of a horse breed (for reasons) and secondly I'd like to ask for any/all feedback you might have. If I'm rushing certain things or if you think I need to spend some more time emphasizing other parts of the story feel free to let me know. I'm flying betaless for the time being so comments are kinda my compass for improving my story going forward. Thanks all for sticking with this story so far and I hope you'll stick with me as I continue to dredge this ship out of the bottom of the ocean. 
> 
> Also if anyone has Porphyrophobia you might want to skip the intermission since so far it's 13k words of Erifef pesterchats about fluffy topics like school and boys and soul crushing existential terror and beach parties and stuff. Probably going to break it up into multiple parts just to avoid dumping a whole bunch on y'all plus I'm kinda thinking of splitting the intermission with another MSPA second person chapter. 
> 
> Coming up! Computer issues! Gossip! Armbars! Cheating on Exams! Espionage! Armbars! The Moss Covered Three Handled Family Credenza! Me beating the Russian Troll Joke until it is D E A D! A R M B A R S!!!!!!
> 
> A R M B A R S E V E R Y W H E R E


	8. Intermission: The Seadweller Chronicles I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple notes for my pesterlog style. 1) No quirk means the character is trying to be serious 2) I'm using white space to show relatively how much time passes between messages 3) Pesterlogs within horizontal lines are done on different days. Pesterlogs within a set of horizontal lines are done on the same day.

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: )(ey!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

caligulasAquarium [CA] started trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC]

CA: yes?

CA: sorry did you need somethin?

CC: O)( not)(ing!

CC: Just calling to say I landed okay!

CA: oh good yeah sorry i didn’t pick up earlier

CC: It’s okay!

CA: wwas out buyin fish food and stuff

CC: )(a)(a!

CA: yeah haha

CC: So

CC: Doing anyt)(ing fun today?

CA: not really

CC: Not)(ing?

CA: nope

CC: Welp I’ll let you get back to errands I guess!

CC: TTYL!

CA: later

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

* * *

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

CC: )(ey I’m back stateside!

CC: Just thoug)(t I’d give you and Sollux a )(eads up!

AA: oh good!

AA: sollux has been knitting himself a chicken for about a day now

AA: er, if you know what i mean

CC: )(a)(a I don’t even know w)(at t)(at means and I know w)(at you mean!

AA: if i had a boonbuck for every time he checked to see how fast he could get to ireland from san jose international i would be richer than dave right now

CC: Geez was he really t)(at worried about me?

AA: are you surprised?

CC: No I guess I'm not.

AA: he's always been worried about you especially concerning

AA: you know

CC: Yea)(, yea)( I know.

CC: W)(at’s )(e up to now?

AA: i suggested he find something to take his mind off things so he’s doing something with desktop

AA: he’s swearing like an enraged sailor so he’s at least having fun

AA: shall i put him on?

CC: Sure go for it!

AA: okay

apocalypseArisen [AA] added twinArmageddons [TA] to the chat!

CC: )(ey Sollux!

TA: oh my god ff are you okay?

CC: No I’m actually texting you from beyond t)(e grave.

CC: Woooooooooo.

AA: it’s true, i'm afraid!

AA: she choked on a peanut on her flight back and is now damned to wander between worlds for all eternity as a restless hungry shade

AA: quite tragic

CC: Indeed. 

TA: ha fliipiity ha

TA: seriiously tho

CC: Yes all my fingers, toes, gills, and fins are w)(ere t)(ey s)(ould be.

CC: Everyt)(ing went surprisingly well actually!

TA: okay so what happened?

CC: T)(ings.

TA: that's iit?

TA: thiings?

CC: Stuff too!

CC: I forgot to mention the stuff.

CC: But I said w)(at I went t)(ere to say.

CC: )(e said w)(at )(e needed to too so I’m )(appy to start to put t)(is be)(ind us.

TA: well that's good

TA: ii’m happy that you got what you needed and we never have two deal wiith that guy agaiin

CC: )(e)(e well you’re free to do w)(atever you want.

CC: I just got off trollian wit)( )(im and )(e seems to be doing okay.

CC: For anyone w)(o is interested.

CC: I know Sollux isn't but )(ow about you Aradia?

AA: well it's always good when things work out better than anyone expected

TA: waiit back up what do you mean you just got off trolliian wiith hiim?

CC: U)(…well.

CC: I was talking wit)( )(im on trollian.

CC: And then I wasn’t.

CC: Pretty simple!

AA: i thought you were supposed to be the tecchy one, sollux

TA: waiit are you seriiously thiinkiing about talkiing to eriidan stiill are you?

CC: Not so much t)(inking about it as actually doing it.

TA: ff are you crazy?

TA: why the hell would want anythiing two do with johnny von kiills hiis friiends

TA: diid you hiit your head and forget the fact he kiilled you or somethiing?

CC: Okay…let me answer these in order.

CC: 1) No, I’m not crazy and please don’t call me that.

CC: 2) Because reasons, that’s why.

CC: 3) Actually yes I completely forgot about the fact that he shot me in the chest!

CC: Thank you for reminding me!

TA: ff you

TA: you can’t

CC: Actually I can!

CC: I know he’s in Ireland and everything but your Trollian 2.0 works really well!

CC: So it’s pretty easy to keep in touch with Eridan!

TA: ff

CC: Look I know you have your hangups about him.

TA: pretty fuckiing good hangups ii would say!

CC: And I’m not saying I blame you for being concerned or anything.

CC: But if there’s a chance that we could maybe be friends again I’m going to take it.

CC: And that doesn’t make me crazy.

TA: ii

TA: aa please talk some sense iinto her

AA: why?

AA: i already know that no matter what we say feferi is going to keep talking to eridan anyway

TA: oh please don’t tell me thiis iis like preordaiined or some shiit

AA: no i just know feferi well enough to know that she’s going to do her own thing no matter what we tell her

CC: T)(ANK YOU!

TA: look ii’m not tryiing to run your liife or anythiing

TA: ii’m just the teensiiest biit concerned that my friiend iis hangiing out wiith the troll that liiterally kiilled her

TA: ii mean how can you even look at hiim wiithout seeiing the guy who shot you iin the freakiing chest?

AA: sollux

TA: no seriiously ii want to know

TA: honestly

CC: Honestly?

CC: I expected to.

CC: I’m still surprised that I don’t.

CC: But like I said to him when I saw him…I’m not dead.

CC: I’m alive and I plan on being alive for a long time.

CC: And I want everything the game took from me back in full.

CC: And that includes Eridan.

CC: Because he was a good friend at one point; one of the first real friends I had.

CC: We got off track a while ago but he’s not JUST the boy who happened to kill me.

CC: I’m sorry if you’re not happy with that.

CC: But that’s the way it’s going to be.

CC: Kay?

TA: ...ii don't really a choiice or anythiing do ii?

CC: You sure as )(eck don’t!

CC: But I appreciate you looking out for me.

TA: not enough two take my adviice though

CC: 38/

TA: okay okay fiine

TA: just let me know iif thiings go sour, okay?

CC: So you can say “haha ff ii told you so”?

TA: no

TA: well

TA: ii miight sliip iit iin there really quiick  


AA: that's what she said

TA: oh my god aa you nerd

CC: )(a)(a!

CC: I’ll allow you some cursory gloating privileges if anyt)(ing does )(appen.

CC: But )(onestly I don’t t)(ink we’re gonna )(ave too many problems.

CC: At least none of the let)(al variety.

TA: glad one of us iis confiident

AA: i think feferi is more than capable of taking care of herself, sollux

TA: ii never saiid she wasn’t ii just

TA: never miind

TA: so you’re back iin monterey?

CC: Yep! Took a bus from the airport so I’m just winding down for the nig)(t.

AA: you must be exhausted

CC: Ex)(austed but )(appy.

CC: I’m probably going to sleep but just wanted to c)(eck in and let you know everyt)(ing is okay on my end!

AA: we appreciate it

CC: No prob!

TA: well have a good sleep

CC: You two too!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling apocalypseArisen [AA] & twinArmageddons [TA]

* * *

arsenicCatnip [AC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

AC: :33 < hey

AC: :33 < you there?

AC: :33 < as in still in one piece?

AC: :33 < feferi gave me the two boonbuck version about last week

AC: :33 < apparently there were broken tables involved and no one invited me!

AC: :33 < h33h33

AC: seriously though, are you there?

AC: you ARE still in one piece, right?

AC: sollux said he’d keep an eye on tavros but i think that's like letting a fox guard a henhouse

AC: okay i’m starting to get a little concerned so if you could just be a pal and shoot me a reply that’d be dandy

CA: hey

AC: :33 < oh phew

AC: :33 < you're alive

AC: :33 < sh33sh next time someone calls in to check on you answer them!!!

AC: :33 < unless you are actually dead!!

AC: :33 < in which case you can just leave a note!

CA: god i was puttin the kettle on give me a break girl

AC: :33 < i’ll break your fureaking arm if you give me another heart attack!

CA: aww you wwere wworied about me

CA: i’m touched

AC: :33 < seriously i thought

CA: yes?

AC: :33 < nevermind

CA: is tavv really still out for my blood?

CA: you thought he got me or somethin?

AC: :33 < well

AC: :33 < he’s not happy but i don’t think he’s booking trips to belfast any time soon

CA: oh sweet bleedin hell nep not you too

CA: you actually knoww wwhere i livve

CA: this whole “irish cities is the same” meme is gettin old

AC: :33 < I know that you grape dinglebat!

AC: :33 < but tavros doesn’t need to know that

AC: :33 < does he?

AC: :33 < at least not when he's playing with knives

CA: oh

AC: >:33 < that’s right!

CA: hm

AC: >:33 < yeah look at me being all crafty and stuff!

CA: i don’t knoww wwhat to say

AC: :33 < how about

AC: :33 < “thank you oh benevvolent lovve goddess for lookin out for my purple butt by not givvin the guy wwho held a knife to my throat my home address that i may continue sulkin about the emerald isle for another day.”

AC: :33 < that’s what you can say

AC: :33 < go on

AC: :33 < say it

AC: :33 < just copypasta that

AC: :33 < i’ll wait

AC: :33 < even did it in your stupid typing quirk so you don’t have to change a thing

CA: :33 < *the ancient maritime hope deity extends his thanks for not exposing his hidden hideaway to avenging assassins in search of his life*

CA: :33 < :33333

AC: :33 < h33h33h33!

>AC: :33 < dick

CA: seriously though

CA: thanks

AC: :33 < don’t mention it lucky charms

AC: :33 < tavros isn’t really going to hunt you down or anything

AC: :33 < he just n33ds some breathing space

AC: :33 < an explanation wouldn’t hurt either

AC: :33 < a HELPFUL one btw

AC: :33 < but i know how you get off on being mysterious and unhelpful

CA: well you wwould knoww wwhat gets me off, wwouldn’t you?

AC: :OO < down boy!

CA: showw me wwhere i'm lyin

AC: :33 < h33h33 well there's a reason i'm the undisputed master of all things hearty you know

CA: oh i knoww 

AC: :33 < you’re in a ch33ry mood at least

AC: :33 < which beats the snot out of when you’re in a bad mood so i guess that’s good

CA: guess i am

CA: feels like i got somethin to look forward to for the first time in a long time so

CA: i’m feelin pretty damn skippy right about now

AC: :33 < er

AC: :33 < just to be clear

AC: :33 < that something you're looking forward to wouldn’t happen to involve you trying to get back with feferi would it?

CA: oh no

CA: god no

CA: i’vve seen wwhere that road ends and i don’t fancy another trip down it

AC: :33 < okay phew just checking

AC: :33 < because you get kinda dumb and self destructive where feferi is concerned

CA: oh come on wwhen havve i evver gotten all dumb and self destructive wwhere fef is 

CA: you knoww wwhat i realized wwhat i wwas sayin as i wwas wwritin it nevvermind

CA: no i’ll be grateful if wwe get back on speakin terms at least

CA: amicable acquaintanceship maybe and dare i say

CA: friendship one day?

AC: :OO < how pawsitively ribald!

CA: fuckin scandalous i knoww

AC: :33 < my stars if you continue to talk in such a manner i shall have to fetch my swooning fan!

CA: so

CA: on semi-related matters

CA: wwe good?

AC: :33 < are you asking me if wwe is good because i don’t watch wrestling

AC: :33 < that’s dave’s thing

AC: :33 < sorry

AC: :33 < “secret thing he watches ironically”

AC: :33 < that i swore i wouldn’t tell anyone about

CA: :33 < after i found him screaming about his fake underwear fighting tv show

CA: smartass

CA: you knoww wwhat i mean

CA: wwe broke up and then the wwhole island thing happened so

AC: :33 < duh!

AC: :33 < far as i’m concerned anyway we’re square

AC: :33 < you think i’m gonna burn bridges with the guy who has a sweet hunting cabin in alaska and go back to stalking deer with hillbillies in the woods?

AC: :33 < hell no

CA: wwoww wwas that all i wwas to you?

CA: did you just use me to savve on travvel fees?

AC :33 < psh of course not!

AC: :33 < i also used you for purely sexy purposes

CA: ah wwell that i kneww

AC: besides

AC: i’m not gonna side against you for gamzee’s sake

AC: not in a million years

AC: equius feels the same

>AC: i mean he doesn’t say it but i know my moirail like i know my own mind at this point so

CA: ah well that’s

CA: good?

AC: :33 < it is

AC: :33 < it is good

CA: good

CA: wwell i’ll let you get back to

CA: wwhatevver you and harley are up to this weekend

AC: :33 < just me; jade’s still in houston

AC: :33 < ate into strider time with the whole feferi thing so they’re making it up

CA: and you all kismesisless

CA: unfortunate

AC: :33 < hey that’s your fault!

CA: hm you're right

CA: i did break up wwith you after all

CA: oh wwait no the opposite of that happened

AC: :33 < hey if you were more of an insufferable dicknozzle we could have kept it up!

AC: :33 < as is you’re just a quarter dicknozzle so it was hard to keep the proverbial hateboner going

CA: i don't remember there being any sorta boner problems betwween us

CA: metaphorical or otherwise

AC: :33 < sorry doll i just don't hate you like i used to but we can still be friends!

CA: rats i kneww i should’vve been more aggressivvely obnoxious in our relationship

AC: :33 yeah you really should have

CA: god black romance is so fucked up

CA: “take me back, baby, i can be more of a scumbag i promise!”

AC: :33 < pfft!

AC: :33 < tell me about it

AC: :33 < i mean back when we were home it was helpful to have someone who wasn't gonna kill you to catch your flaws before the drones did

CA: i guess but wwe're not on alternia anymore

AC: :33 < yeah on this planet blackrom is a complete waste of time

CA: i wwouldn’t go that far

CA: wwe did a lot of things but wwastin time wwasn’t one of them

AC: :33 < ahh but what we were doing wasn’t strictly blackrom though

CA: wwhatevver it wwas it wwas somethin that’s for damn sure

CA: you sure you’re not up for perpetuatin a hateless charade for cheap shalloww thrills?

AC: :33 < don’t tempt me; i’ve already relapsed on this breakup once!

CA: yes and a damn shame that wwas

CA: oh wwell

CA: enjoy the wweekend i guess?

AC: :33 < i’ll try

CA: thanks again for

CA: wwell, thanks.

AC: :33 < no problem boblem

AC: :33 < i’ll let you get back to your

AC: :33 < tea i guess

AC: :33 < ttfn!

CA: ta ta for noww

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

 

 

arsenicCatnip [AC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

AC: :33 < i mean

CA: yes?

AC: :33 < how is it better to completely loathe someone and have sex with them than it is to sleep with someone you’re just kinda friends with?

CA: it’s not

CA: quadrants are stupid

CA: evverythin from alternia is stupid

AC: >:OO < hey!

AC: >:OO < i’m from alternia!

AC: >:OO < you’re from alternia!

CA: i knoww i just called you stupid

CA: wwhat are you gonna do

AC: >:OO < nothing!

AC: >:OO < i’m just gonna be super mad and hang on to it!

AC: >:OO < and for unrelated reasons i’m also going to be in belfast doing a talkshow next w33k!

AC: >:OO < so i’m going to be pretty mad in belfast next week!

CA: oh yeah?

CA: wwell i just might be mad in belfast too

AC: >:OO < well maybe we’ll just both be mad in belfast!

CA: maybe!

AC: >:OO < but even if we are, we are not enjoy friendly conversation over dinner!

CA: yeah wwe’re not goin that shit

AC: >:OO < and not make discovery channel pay for the hotel room that we will not be destroying in a round of completely platonic friend-sex!

CA: yeah wwe wwill definitely not be doin that

AC: >:OO < good!

AC: >:OO < i’m glad we agr33!

CA: fine

AC: >:OO < fine!

AC: >:OO < have a good weekend!

CA: you too

AC: >:OO < or don’t!

AC: >:OO < i don’t care!

CA: me neither

AC: >:OO < fine!

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

 

arsenicCatnip [AC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

AC: :33 < okay just to be clear when we said we weren’t doing all that stuff we totally meant that we ARE actually going to hook up for dinner slash platonic sexy times, right?

CA: you might wwant to wwarn your producers that you’re keepin a feral cat in your hotel suite and it may slash may not escape and completely destroy the bed, side tables, bathroom sink, and bathtub

CA: just to be safe

AC: :33 < okay good we’re on the same page

AC: :33 < see you then~!

CA: deuces

arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

* * *

 caligulasAquarium [CA] started trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC]

 

CA: hey

CC: Oh hey!

CA: just got back from belfast

CC: Oh really?

CC: I think Nepeta was there this week; did you two meet up?

CA: just for a quick dinner; nothin special

CC: Well apparently that dinner went too long because while she was out a bobcat she was taking to a talk show totally wrecked her hotel suite!

CA: what?

CC: Completely chewed through her new clothes too!

CA: that’s terrible

CC: Why would it just snap like that?

CA: well you know the well documented fact about bobcats and how they’re whipped into a destructive frenzy at the sight of black lace

CC: What?

CA: what?

CA: anyway

CA: on to a completely different topic

CA: i got this here package

CC: Oh it got there!

CA: some scandanavian motherfuckers showed up after i got home

CA: did you seriously buy me a new table?

CC: Well yeah!

CC: I said I would, didn’t I?

CA: well yeah but

CC: Is it not the right color or something?

CA: no it’s lovely

CA: the mahogany is a nice touch

CA: real nice taste you got there

CA: you didn’t need to do that though

CC: Eridan.

CC: I hit you in the face so hard you fell through your own table.

CC: Replacing it is the absolute least I can do.

CA: i guess

CA: didn’t really expect it though

CC: Are you saying I’m not good for my word?

CA: what no not at all

CC: So what’s the problem?

CA: well

CA: i guess nothin

CA: thanks

CC: Of course!

CC: Hate to cut you off but lab is starting!

CA: oh okay

CA: enjoy?

CC: I’ll try!

CC: Oh god will I try.

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

* * *

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

 

CC: )(ey w)(en you got a minute, can we talk?

CC: It’s not)(ing serious; I just need a friendly ear…and some expert advice.

AC: :33 < ahh yes come into my parlor, young traveler, and s33k the wisdom of the mistress of all things interpersonal~

AC: :33 < let the rogue of heart’s bountiful wisdom wash over you like a cool summer’s breeze and rejuvenate you like a fresh mountain spring

AC: :33 < what ails you, my girl?

AC: :33 < speak and let my sage counsel grant you peace of mind!

CC: It’s about Eridan.

AC: shit

AC: okay, look, i know you’re upset but it was just the one time in belfast, i promise!

CC: Excuse me?

AC: okay fine it was just the two times in belfast and london a month later!

>CC: W)(at?

AC: you’re right i can’t lie to you it was just the five times in belfast, dublin, munich, barcelona, casablanca, and that one time at the hunting lodge in New Zealand last month but that was it i promise!

CC: Nepeta.

CC: W)(at t)(e )(oly )(ell are you talking about?!

AC: oh

AC: this isn’t about belfast??

CC: W)(y would this be about Belfast?

CC: W)(at )(appened in Belfast??

AC: uh

AC: :33 < absolutely nothing!

CC: Not)(ing?

AC: :33 < nope!

AC: :33 < nothing at all!

CC: Are you sure?

AC: :33 < definitely sure!

AC: :33 < so what’s the story?

AC: :33 < sage advice, enter my parlor, yadda yadda yadda

AC: :33 < we’re wrapped shooting for the day so i’m free for the evening.

AC: :33 < you having problems?

CC: Well…not exactly?

CC: I mean we’re not fig)(ting or anyt)(ing if t)(at’s w)(at you’re asking.

CC: But it’s been like two mont)(s since I’ve seen )(im and we’re not really talking as muc)( as I t)(oug)(t we’d be.

AC: :33 < i s33

CC: I mean I t)(oug)(t we left t)(ings good back in January but…I’m not so sure anymore.

CC: We )(ave t)(ese ten minute conversations )(ere and t)(ere but t)(ey never seem to go beyond small talk or pleasantries.

AC: :33 < hmm

AC: :33 < maybe that’s because he killed you that one time and things are still kinda awk 

CC: T)(at’s not it! I told him I already forgave )(im for t)(at!

AC: :33 < and you meant it?

CC: Nepeta would I ---EV---ER say somet)(ing like t)(at if I didn’t totally mean it?

AC: :33 < i dunno

AC: :33 < you might if you wanted things to just go back to normal as soon as possible

AC: :33 < which kinda sounds like what you want just sayin

CC: Well yea)(!

CC: I do want t)(ings to go back to normal!

CC: But t)(at doesn’t mean I )(aven’t forgiven )(im!

CC: You know t)(at better t)(an anyone!

AC: :33 < alright alright just checking!

AC: :33 < things might have changed after we split up

AC: :33 < but even if you’ve forgiven him it don’t mean things are just gonna snap back to the way they were.

AC: :33 < and then there’s the whole problem of eridan being eridan

AC: :33 < if you know what i mean

CC: O)( GOD do I!

CC: You’re saying t)(at even t)(oug)( I may )(ave forgiven )(im, )(e mig)(t not )(ave forgiven )(imself?

AC: :33 < bingo

CC: Ug)( t)(at doesn’t make sense!

CC: I was t)(e dead one and I managed to move past it! W)(y can’t )(e?

AC: because eridan is eridan?

AC: speaking as someone who sleeps next to him

AC: *slept

AC: dang typos

AC: let’s just say he mutters your name in his sleep

CC: Wait, really??

AC: and not in the sexy way

AC: in the soon to wake up in a cold sweat kinda way

CC: But…it’s been more than six thousand years for him.

CC: Does this just mean he’s never getting over it?

AC: eridan is eridan

CC: Meaning after all these years he’s still the type of kid who picks at scabs until they scar?

AC: :33 < correctamundo

AC: :33 < but i think with you back and the pair of you talking again it can only help things

AC: :33 < he seemed happier when we met in belfast

CC: ...and Dublin, Munich, Barcelona, Casablanca, and the hunting cabin in New Zealand?

AC: :33 <…those times too

CC: )(a)(!

CC: So are you two like back together or somet)(ing?

AC: :33 < ...depends on the day of the w33k

AC: :33 < and your definition of “together”

AC: :33 < but if you’re asking if we’re romantically involved then the answer is no

AC: :33 < i mean i like the guy and all

AC: :33 < no one else in our group appreciates my love of stalking, killing, and eating wild animals with my bare hands

AC :33 < and at the risk of getting all tmi on you i kinda enjoyed finding out where each and every single one of his scars were

CC: Okay t)(at!

CC: I t)(oug)(t it was just t)(e scar on )(is face but w)(at is up wit)( all t)(ose scars on )(is c)(est and back?!

AC: :33 < beats me; he's never explained those very well

CC: I mean t)(e next morning )(e was just sleeping in bed and I got a good look at )(im and wow )(e looks like )(e wrestled wit)( an imperial drone and lost!

AC: :33 < well i think you can guess what happened there

CC: …Gamzee?

AC: when you hear hooves, think horses not hoofbeasts

CC: Ug)( w)(y didn’t )(e just take off )(is s)(irt on the island t)(en?!

>CC: I T)(INK we’d all be more sympat)(etic if we saw what a mess Gamzee made of him!

CC: And w)(y are t)(ose t)(e only wounds t)(at never )(ealed?

AC: :33 < i dunno

AC: :33 < i am but a humble wildlife journalist slash love goddess

AC: >;33 < better question is why you were looking at him in bed with his shirt off

AC: >;33 < i know how i saw them but how did you, hmm? >:3c

CC: W)(at are you talking ab

CC: N---EP---ETA PL---EAS---E!

CC: IT ISN’T LIK---E THAT!

AC: >;33 < now i’m really upset no one invited me

CC: You are HORRIBL---E!

AC: :33 < h33h33 relax i’m just twisting your flipper

CC: Somet)(ing tells me coming to you for )(elp was a mistake.

AC: :33 < well if that’s how you feel

AC: :33 < you should just call up eridan and ask him what’s wrong

AC: :33 < maybe he’ll tell you what’s up

CC: You’re rig)(t!

CC: I s)(ould just ASK )(IM w)(y t)(ings feel weird between us!

AC: :33 < he’ll totally open up to you if you just prod him a little

CC: That’s rig)(t! )(e totally will!

CC: …

AC: :33 < …

CC: )(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A)(A!

AC: X33 < hahahahahahahahahahaaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

CC: O)(…o)( god my sides )(urt.

AC: :33 < i couldn’t type that with a straight face!

AC: :33 < he’s still such a tool

AC: :33 < a useful tool now but a tool all the same

CC: So )(ow am I supposed to make t)(is tool work for me?

CC: And if you make any tool innuendo )(ere so )(elp me I will use my second )(arley Teleport Token to zoop over t)(ere and smack you.

AC: :33 < hey you went there, not me

AC: :33 < look, you know eridan

AC: :33 < some stuffchanged but some stuff hasn't

AC: :33 < he’s not much for idle chitter chatter

AC: :33 < and knowing him he probably isn’t going to talk much unless he has something to say

CC: So…if I give )(im a reason to talk?

AC: :33 < give a mouse a cookie and he’ll want a glass of milk

AC: :33 < give an eridan a reason to talk and he’ll never shut the fuck up

CC: Trut)(.

AC: :33 < you ever just want to read a wall of purple text ask him about the east india trading company and watch him go off for like half an hour

CC: )(mm…I mig)(t )(ave an idea.

AC: :33 < just remember to go slow like you’re trying to talk to a skittish d33r or something

AC: :33 < you got nothing but time to make it work with him if you want to

CC: T)(anks, Nepeta.

AC: :33 < anything for the fef in fefeta

CC: …so.

AC: :33 < hm?

CC: Belfast, )(u)(?

AC: :33 < oh haha…yeah

AC: :33 < not sorry

AC: :33 < except for the property damage

AC: :33 < and even then i'm not losing sl33p

CC: So you two are just…friends?

AC: :33 < friends

AC: :33 < friends who like hunting and occasionally wind up in the same bed at the same time

CC: Sounds like more t)(an occasionally!

AC: :33 < hey primordial love goddesses gotta get their primordial love goddess on

AC: :33 < no judgy judgy

CC: I’m not!

CC: As long as you're bot)( )(appy!

AC: :33 < i can't speak for him but i think the benefits are what you might call mutual ;3c

AC: :33 < i would know if things got any seriouser on his end

AC: :33 < i know when people fall in love pretty easy

AC: :33 < or out of love for that matter

CC: I guess you would.

AC: :33 < besides it's good to have someone to

AC: :33 < uh nevermind

CC: …are t)(ings wit)( Jade going okay?

AC: :33 < yeah fine!

CC: Nepeta…

AC: :33 it’s nothing!

AC: …we’re not fighting or anything

AC: we’re just…ugh don’t even know how to say it.

CC: Growing apart?

AC: grown apart

AC: in the past tense and all that jazz

AC: it’s over and so far i’m the only one who knows it’s over

AC: the worst part is i know she doesn’t love me like she used to and she doesn’t

AC: yay heart powers!

CC: That must be hard 38(.

AC: i don't know if i should be blaming dave or myself for working all the time but

AC: least i know where i stand with eridan

AC: might just physical but we’re not pretending it’s anything other than what it is.

AC: i don’t know i’m probably going to have to break it off with her when i get back so

AC: that’s gonna be fun!!

CC: You have my number.

CC: Honestly you should use it more!

AC: eh i don’t wanna bum you out

CC: You’ll bum me out if I think you’re going through a breakup alone!

AC: you’re gonna be bummed out either way just sayin

CC: Okay can’t I be bummed out and supportive of my friend/person I shared a body with at the same time?

AC: if that’s what floats your boat, fishlips

CC: 38O

AC: :33 < oh crap right that’s literally racist now

AC: :33 < i can’t say that, can i?

CC: I would avoid it!

CC: I don’t want to open up TMZ and see “Animal Planet Star Racist Against Seadwellers.”

AC: :33 < point

AC: :33 < i'm already getting crap from peta for eating meat i don't n33d this on my plate

AC: :33 < my bad

AC: :33 < let me know how it goes with your whole idea

AC: :33 < thingie

AC: :33 < with eridan

CC: I will!

CC: Let me know )(ow t)(ings s)(ake out with Jade.

AC: :33 < i will

AC: :33 < if i show up in monterey with a bucket of ice cream crying about how humans suck don’t be surprised

CC: I’ll let my roommates know t)(ey mig)(t )(ave to clear out at a moment’s notice.

AC: :33 < aww you the best

AC: :33 < you the you the best

CC: I know 38)

AC: :33 < okay i gotta get up early tomorrow and shoot a dragon colony for a new special

CC: Yikes!

AC: :33 < gotta get my asbestos suit in order and whatever

AC: :33 < remind me to thank terezi for voting that we include dragon lusi in the new world

CC: Yea)( t)(ey are kind of a lot of trouble, aren't t)(ey?

AC: :33 < what no i mean literally remind me to thank her

AC: :33 < dragons are freaking awesome

CC: ...okay!

CC: Well I'll let you go t)(en!

CC: T)(anks for t)(e advice!

AC: :33 < no problem my submarine sister

CC: Be safe tomorrow!

AC: :33 < by33!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

* * *

carcinoGeneticist [CA] started trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

 

CG: Hey did you do the thing I asked?

TA: yeah iit’s up and workiing really well

TA: ii piigybacked the program on the last update and he updated iit last week

CG: And he isn’t going to know?

TA: not unless he goes iinto the code and fiinds the tracker

TA: whiich ii doubt he wiill

TA: you want me to forward hiis logs to you?

CG: Just log them somewhere and I’ll look through the ones that look important.

TA: there aren’t that many that look important

TA: unless you count about four back and forth convos with np about hookiing up in cairo and about a couple dozen messages from ff about weather or moviies or some other bs

CG: Okay.

CG: Just let me know if we need to do something.

TA: wiill do

CG: Thanks.

CG: I’ll sleep a little easier tonight.

TA: not iif tz has anythiing to say about iit

TA: hehe

CG: OH MY GOD YOU ARE SUCH A FUCKING SIX SWEEP OLD

CG: KEEP IT UP AND WE'RE GOING TO ARREST ARADIA FOR INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONS WITH A MINOR

CG: GOODBYE

TA: haha deuces

 

carcinoGeneticist [CA] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

 

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus begins the intermission; with a bigass wall of pestertext. 
> 
> At this point, I want to use these pesterlogs to try and build the world/offer backstory a little bit. I mentioned here that dragon lusus migrated over to the new world and next time we're going to go into the history of seadweller slavery but if there's anything that's unclear/you would like to know more about PLEASE let me know so I can spend some time exploring it in the next part of the story. Also I know we're flirting with EriNep here a little but I swear this is still EriFef. It's just gonna be a slow burn and they need to go back to being friends first...through historical trivia. 
> 
> You'll see. 
> 
> Next time; we talk about Feferi's parents, why Eridan hates the English, Feferi deeply, deeply hurts Eridan by reminding him about the most painful part about spending eternity alone, and Feferi finally learns the meaning of the term "blue balls". Gonna be fun.


	9. Intermission: The Seadweller Chronicles II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR DOWNTON ABBEY SPOILERS

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

CC: )(ey question!

CA: yes?

CC: You’ve been t)(roug)( sc)(ool a few times, rig)(t?

CA: once or twwice

CA: and by once or twwice i mean maybe a couple of hundred times

CA: it’s a good wway to kill time in four year chunks

CC: Okay, good.

CA: wwhy?

CC: I was wondering if you had any notes lying around or anything?

CA: i might

CA: wwhat are you taking?

cuttlefishCuller [CC] sent caligulasAquarium [CA] the file F_PeixesScheduleSpring2016.pdf

CC: I t)(ink may or may not )(ave bitten off more than I can c)(ew wit)( t)(is course load…

CA:…you t)(ink?

CC: Don’t judge!

CA: i’m judgin

CC: I t)(oug)(t it would be easier!

CA: did you buy a time turner from strider or somethin?

CC: A w)(at?

CA: holy shit you got organic chemistry and biology back to back three days a wweek

CA: if you wwanted to torture yourself you could havve just started wwhippin your back like a penitent monk

CA: okay fair wwarnin i haven’t taken organic chemistry since the seventies so

CC: O)( no t)(ose are t)(e easy one!

CA: the

CA: the easy ones?

CC: Marine Biology major, remember?

CA: i

CA: you’ve never taken a science class in your life how are those the easy ones?

CC: Can’t really say!

CA: do your life powers givve you a passivve bonus to bio related trivvia or somethin?

CC: Well w)(en you’ve )(ad a )(and in creating slas)( recreating the flora and fauna of an entire freaking planet bio classes aren’t so toug)(.

CC: Or somet)(ing.

CC: I’m not gonna look a gift lamprey in t)(e mouth.

CA: wwoww

CC: I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to part with some notes for some of my core classes.

CC: Like world )(istory?

CA: wwhich one??

CA: i see like

CA: you’ve got ancient history and medievval history back to back on tuesdays and fridays

CA: seriously can strider get me one of them time turners too?

CC: I’ll put in a good word for you if you toss me some notes here.

CC: Seeing as you used to be an )(istory buff I would t)(ink you’ve taken a class or two in your day.

CA: you’re not wwrong

CC: And it’s not like )(istory c)(anges t)(at muc)(, rig)(t?

CA: you’d be surprised

CC: I’m so sure.

CC: So you gonna )(elp me out or w)(at?

CC: As you can see I got bigger fis)( to fry and absolutely no time to worry about King So-And-So ruling over the country of W)(o Cares.

CA: hey

CA: king so-and-so wwas a good friend of mine

CC: O)( wow sorry I didn’t realize I was talking to the last member of the So-and-So dynasty.

CA: you woulda if you paid attention in history

CA: honestly i don’t knoww how i feel contributin to juvenile delinquency

CC: O)( SPAR---E M---E!

CC: You know no one pays attention to 100% of the classes t)(ey’re taking!

CC: People pass college by acing t)(e classes in t)(eir major and passing t)(e ones t)(at aren’t by the skin of their teet)(!

CC: Tell me I’m wrong.

CA: no no that’s pretty much college in a nutshell

CA: alright let me knoww wwhat notes you need

CA: and i’ll see wwhat i can do

CC: T)(ANKS!

CC: You’re a life saver!

CA: literally in this case

CC: 38I

CC: …was t)(at anot)(er Life pun?

CA: you throww em i hit em

CC: Ug)()()()()()()()()()( you are SUCH a DW---E---EB!

CA: that’s dr.dwweeb to you thank you vvery much

CA: i didn’t spend ten years examining cadavvers pilfered from gravveyards in the eighteenth century to be called mister dwweeb

CC: ---EW really?

CA: it wwas a grim and silly time despite wwhat them steampunk kids wwould havve you think

CA: for medicine at least

CA: and fashion let’s be honest

CA: i digress

CA: i’ll email you my notes on early agrarian farming and i guess charlemagne’s coronation

CA: god wwhat a snoozefest that wwas

CC: You’re a peach!

CC: Or…w)(atever kinds of fruit grow in Ireland.

CC: Apples?

CA: sure let’s go wwith that

CC: Awesome!

CC: Alright, got to let you go; got a Downton Abbey binge to start on.

CA: pft

CA: yeah you wwould wwouldn’t you

CC: W)(at’s t)(at supposed to mean???

CA: oh nothing

CA: i just remember wwhen that showw hit ovver here and i kneww you’d be all ovver a showw about beautiful benevvolent aristocrats and their plucky and cheery servvants

CA: let me guess; sybil’s your fav

CC: I never said t)(at!

CA: that’s not a no

CC: …I’m not sure if I need to be offended right now.

CC: Do I need to be offended?

CA: no

CA: let’s go wwith no

CC: Is it not )(istorically accurate enoug)( for you Mr. I-Watch-S)(ows-Wit)(-Ponytailed-Immortals?

CA: okay first of all

CC: Sorry

CC: Dr. I-Watc)(-S)(ows-Wit)(-Ponytailed-Immortals

CA: thank you

CA: second of all i don’t got beef wwith the show

CA: thought it wwas good

CA: class porn

CA: but good

CC: Class porn?

CA: “oh wwasn’t evverythin dandy wwhen wwe livved under the reign of wwitty aristocrats? gosh things wwere so much more civvilized back then.”

CC: Pfft sorry t)(is is RIC)( coming from Mr. Seadwweller Master Race.

CA: dr. seadwweller master race

CC: You weren’t a doctor w)(en you were five sweeps old! 38P

CA: oh snap

CC: Yes snap!

CC: I’m just saying I thought you’d be more Grant)(am and less Branson.

CA: wwell livvin as both an aristocrat and the prehistoric equivvilent of a hobo i gotta say that the aristocracy is only evver fun for aristocrats

CA: and not evven then really

CA: besides wwhy wwouldn’t i sympathize with the black irish bastard wwho loathes the english monarchy?

CA: just sayin

CC: FIN---E!

CC: I’m gonna watc)( it anyway just to SPIT---E you!

CA: you’re not spitin me by wwatching it

CC: T)(at sounds like somet)(ing someone getting SPIT---ED would say!

CA: still not spitin me

CC: Gonna spite you SO )(ARD!

CA: okay fine i am spited

CA: nevver before has anyone spited me like this

CA: *faints from spite damage*

CC: T)(at’s better!

CC: Okay I’m off now; no spoilers!

CA: snape kills dumbledore

CC: W)(at?

CA: nevver mind

CC: Okay….bye!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: W)(Y DIDN’T YOU TELL ME T)(AT SYBIL DI---ES?!!!!!!!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

* * *

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: Question!

CA: yes?

CC: Did you

CC: By any c)(ance

CC: Know Caligula?

CA:…caligula?

CA: wwhy the hell wwould I have knowwn Caligula?

CC: O)( gos)( I don’t know, caligulasAquarium!

CC: )(ow silly of me to t)(ink t)(at you mig)(t )(ave been all up in Caligula’s gills.

CC: Since you were APPAR---ENTLY kicking around at the time.

CC: 38P

CA: fef if i knew caligs i wwouldn’t be here discussin it wwith you.

CA: guy was by all accounts a loony

CA: a murderous loony

CA: made his fuckin horse a senator fef

CA: a horse

CA: not even a horse lusus or anythin

CC: FIN---E

CC: Just thoug)(t I’d c)(eck.

CC: Maybe save a trip to the library.

CA: noww if you wwanted to knoww about wwhat it wwas like to be an italian fish merchant wwhile caligula was kickin around rome

CC: …you were not a fis)( merc)(ant, were you?

CA: …

CC: O)( MY GOD YOU WER---E A FIS)( M---ERCHANT

CA: look it wwas just a summer job

CC: Were you ---EV---EN in Rome at that time?

CA: no i was busy not bein murdered by loony roman emperors or trampled by senator horse

CC: UG)(

CA: and enjoyin some nice fish

CC: I cannot B---ELI---EV---E t)(at you were alive and kicking during one of the FR---EAKI---EST times in )(istory and you weren’t even friends with a Roman emperor or two!

CA: wwhy wwould i wwant to be friends with pricks like them?

CC: )(ow do you know they were pricks if you were never friends with them, )(u)(?

CC: )(U)(??

CA: look i may not’vve been nero’s drinkin buddy but you get to be ruler of a fuckin empire wwithout being a massive prickwwhistler

CA: that’s just fuckin facts

CC: Are you saying that I would )(ave been a massive prickw)(istler if I )(ad taken the t)(rone?

CA: …wwell

CC: 38O

CA: history wwill nevver know, wwill it?

CC: RUD---E!

CC: God, last time I ask for )(elp wit)( my )(istory )(omework!

CC: You )(ave to be the most BORING immortal in the universe!

CA: hey i’vve done some interestin things!

CA: not like i wwas sittin on my bum for six thousand years

CC: NAM---E ON---E!

CA: okay um

CA: …it’ll come to me just wwait

CC: GOD maybe I s)(ould )(ave stayed be)(ind instead of you t)(en!

CC: T)(ink I would )(ave )(ad more fun.

CC: And befriended an emperor or two so t)(ree t)(ousand years later I could write a glubbing )(istory paper wit)(out wasting a day in the library!

CA: wwhy do you evven need to take history courses

CA: are fish big history buffs

CC: Don’t ask.

CC: Somet)(ing about “core curriculum” or w)(atever.

CC: Can we just cut to the part w)(ere we start learning about biology?

CC: Tired of all t)(ese STUPID side classes wasting my time!

CA: wwelcome to higher education

CA: you can check out anytime you like

CA: but you can nevver leavve.

CC: Speak for yourself!

CC: Soon as I get t)(is STUPID diploma I’m never looking back!

CA: oh sure

CA: you say that noww but wwait til you’re three hundred and twwo and bored out of your fuckin skull.

CA: you’ll be back

CC: You seem V---ERY certain of t)(at

CA: trust me

CA: wwhen you got nothin better to do you find yourself doin some pretty bizzare shit just to pass the time.

CA: see:fishmongerin

CC: Ps)(awwwww.

CA: screencap this

CA: revvisit it wwhen you’re signin up for classes at space univversity or something

CC: )(mp)(!

CA: i’m tellin you it’s gonna happen

CC: Maybe I’m not gonna )(ave to go to sc)(ool to pass the time because I’m gonna )(ave the internet and friends and stuff!

CA: …wwoww

CC: I mean

CC: Wait that didn’t come out right

CA: i knoww wwhat you meant

CC: UG)( no wait

CA: real mean of you, fef

CA: you knoww howw hard it wwas for me

CC: Eridan

CA: livvin wwithout internet

CC: I didn’t mean to

CC: …what.

CA: all those years wwithout the means to look up meaningless shit wwhen i wwas bored

CA: no access to vvideos of cats ridin vvacuums like scooters

CA: let’s not forget the appallin lack of erotica that wwasn’t smeared on wwalls of bathhouses

CA: howw cruel of you to bring it up

CC: Are you

CC: Are you pulling my flipper rig)(t now?!

CA: no i’m really sad, fef

CA: wway to rub salt in the fact that i livved like a fuckin mennonite before mennonites wwere a thing

CC: You J---ERK!

CA: noww you’re callin me names

CC: SCR---EW YOU 38PPPPPPPPP

CA: lotta tongues you got goin on there

CC: 38PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

CA: gettin a proper tongue lashin here aren’t i

CC: UG)(

CC: I’m going to go do )(omework!

CC: I’m not gonna stand for t)(is AGGR---ESSIV---E TOMFOOL---ERY!

CC: BY---E!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CA: bye

 

* * *

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: I’m in trouble.

CA: “i didn’t study for a test” trouble?

CA: or “howw fast can you get here with a shovel and hydrochloric acid” trouble?

CC: U)(… “I don’t want my roomates to find out I’m actually a six t)(ousand years old alien goddess from another planet.”

CC: T)(at kind.

CA: ahh yes my favorite kind of trouble

CA: and a kind i’m wwell acquainted wwith

CA: wwell just fall back on your covver and evverythin should wwork out

CA: don’t vvolunteer more than they ask for and wwhatnot

CC: W)(at cover?

CA: your

CA: wwhat covver?

CA: the story you told them about wwhere you wwere from and so-on

CA: that covver

CA: please tell me you have a covver

CC: Even if I don’t?

CA: i

CA: oh wwoww

CC: Yep.

CC: Wwoww.

CA: hang on i’m going to need some tea or something

CC: And more w’s apparently.

CA: did you not tell them anythin about yourself?

CC: Not really.

CC: We never really dug into our personal )(istories or anyt)(ing.

CC: And I’ve never told them anyt)(ing about myself.

CC: But since I kinda need a place to live during t)(e during t)(e summer we were talking about maybe getting a )(ouse for next year.

CC: And w)(ile t)(at sounds peac)(y, our pasts are going to come up eventually.

CC: So I figured you must )(ave )(ad some experience wit)( making up fake backstories.

CC: Like w)(at did you tell the first regular person you met about yourself?

CC: Maybe I’ll do t)(at?

CA: i told him that i wwas a god

CC: …okay t)(at doesn’t )(elp me!

CA: to be fair he kneww i wwas a god already so

CC: Look I need to t)(ink of a lie I can feed t)(em if it comes up.

CA: no

CA: you need to think of a life you can feed t)(em if it comes up

CC: Are you suggesting some kind of sacrifice because if you are we may need to )(ave a c)(at about t)(at.

CA: wwhat i mean is that it’s not just enough to think of one lie to tell someone wwhen they ask wwhere you greww up or something

CA: you gotta wwrite a wwhole fuckin backstory for yourself so you don’t get caught in a lie or somethin

CC: Like make up a town w)(ere I was born or somet)(ing?

CA: ah see you coulda done that before computers and shit but noww you gotta be a little slicker

CA: pick a towwn somewwhere that’s small enough that most people haven’t heard of it but big enough that if someone has heard of it

CA: or wworse is from there

CA: they can’t catch you in a lie

CC: Wow someone’s paranoid.

CA: hey wwe livve in the age of google and phones with cameras

CA: plus people get pretty fuckin nosy if they think you’re hidin stuff

CA: trust me; last think you need is people startin to ask questions you don’t got the answwers to

CA: especially if you have any plans about finishin school

CA: or carin for sharks

CC: Good point.

CA: okay so wwhat do your parents do

CC: Parents?

CC: O)( right trolls )(ave t)(ose now, don’t t)(ey?

CA: okay just some friendly advvice

CA: don’t talk about trolls like you aren’t one in the company of…you knoww

CA: mortals

CC: Pft calling t)(em “mortals” sounds so douc)(ey.

CA: i’vve earned the right okay

CA: wwhat wwould you rather me call em?

CC: I dunno

CC: )(ow about just “people?”

CA: ah but wwe’re people too

CA: old people

CA: but people

CC: You’re t)(e only old one!

CA: uh

CA: technically you’re still two months older than me

CC: Perigrees.

CA: wwhatevver

CA: that makes you the oldest troll alivve

CC: O)( snap t)(at’s rig)(t!

CC: )(A)(A)(A)(A)(A!

CC: I’m older t)(an you are!

CC: Some)(ow.

CA: okay back on topic

CA: who is your daddy and what does he do

CC: Um...he’s a mail delivery person!

CC: Works for the government delivering mail and stuff.

CA: okay cool

CA: you get along wwith him?

CC: O)( yea)(!

CC: )(e did all kinds of fat)(erly stuff for me!

CC: Like driving lessons and t)(reatening my boyfriends!

CA: oh neat

CA: wwhy didn’t he movve you in to school then?

CC: O)(…t)(at’s because )(e…died in the war.

CA: uh huh

CA: wwhich one

CC: O)( you know…t)(e last one.

CC: Between t)(ose two countries…w)(o )(ad some kind of problem wit)( eac)(ot)(er.

CC: …)(mm.

CC: I see your point.

CA: take your time

CC: You know I think I’m gonna do some )(omework on t)(is.

CC: Talk to you later?

CA: sure sure

CA: just message me wwhen you wwant me to quiz you

CC: )(a)(a okay.

CC: Be back later!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CA: got it?

CC: (Yea)( mind if we do a test run?)

CA: (no problem)

CA: (wwhenevver you’re ready)

CC: Hello hypothetical stranger! My name is Feferi Peixes and I’m from Costa Seca California!

CA: (good good)

CA: wwhat school did you go to?

CC: Rio Grande High School.

CC: Home of the Dolphins!

CA: (nice touch)

CC: (T)(ank you)

CA: you liked school?

CC: Yep!

CC: I did water polo and swimming for four years!

CA: oh that’s cool; i never understood water polo.

CA: how do you play it?

CC: …I was on the swim team for four years!

CA: cool

CA: okay what do your parents do?

CC: Oh…well my mom was a veterinarian until she got into a car accident and I had to take care of her until…well…she didn’t get better.

CC: Dad was…well it was almost like I didn’t even have a father…

CC: Sorry, I just get kind of emotional when I talk about them…

CA: (that’s brilliant; puts people off from askin more questions)

CC: (T)(at’s w)(at I t)(oug)(t!)

CC: (You don’t t)(ink I’m overplaying t)(e dead parents card?)

CA: (in my experience you can nevver ovverplay the dead parents card)

CC: (It’s also tec)(nically t)(e trut)(!)

CA: (telling the truth makes lyin easier)

CA: so you don’t have any other family who you live with?

CC: Not really. I have some distant cousins in Portugal but I’ve never met them.

CC: Mom died just…just last year. She managed to save some money for me so I don’t have to worry about that for a bit.

CC: One of her friends helped me sell the house so that helped too.

CA: you sold your mom’s house?

CC: Yeah…I thought about staying there but I’m starting school and it was just so big without her…

CA: (work that dead parents angle)

CA: (make them deeply uncomfortable for evven askin)

CC: (T)(at’s for anyone asking w)(y I’m not going back )(ome!)

CA: okay so you keep in touch with anybody from the old neighborhood?

CC: Not really…just this guy who lived down the block from me when we were growing up.

CC: Helped me look after Mom when she couldn’t even feed herself.

CC: We had kind of a falling out a while back and he ended up moving to Ireland where his family was from.

CC: But I ran into him at a party a few months ago and we’ve been keeping in touch on chat ever since!

CC: (T)(at’s t)(e story I’ve been feeding my roommates w)(en t)(ey ask w)(o I’m talking to all the time.)

CC: (Do you mind?)

CA: (no that’s fine)

CA: (if push comes to shovve i can always vverify your story)

CA: (but i think you’re solid peixes)

CC: (Woo!)

CC: T)(anks for t)(e tips!

CA: don’t sweat it

CA: not often i get to bestow sage advice on people

CC: Well I’m glad I gave you t)(e c)(ance t)(en!

CA: thank god because my sage wwisdom balls wwere blue as hell from not gettin used

CC: OKAY WAIT!

CC: I keep saying stuff like t)(at and people keep looking at me weird!

CA: like wwhat

CC: “Blue balls”

CC: Like it means frustration, rig)(t?

CA: basically

CC: So w)(y did Jade look at me weird w)(en I said t)(at you left me wit)( blue balls on t)(e island?!

CA: you uh

CA: said that to her?

CC: Yea)( w)(y?

CA: like

CA: in those wwords?

CC: Y—ES W)(Y?

CA: um

CA: wwell wwhile it’s true that that particular phrase deals wwith

CA: frustration

CA: it’s more specifically used to describe um

CA: a different kind of frustration.

CC: Wait.

CA: namely the sexual kind

CC: W)(AT?!

CA: so wwhen you said that i gavve you blue balls you sort of suggested that you wwere comin ovver for

CA: um

CC: NO

CA: yep

CC: O)( GOD

CC: S)(E TROLL---ED M---E T)(---E N---EXT DAY AND ASK---ED )(OW TH---E NIG)(T W---ENT!

CC: AND I SAID

CC: “Really good! We were actually up for most of t)(e nig)(t. T)(ings got kinda roug)( and I accidentally broke )(is table w)(ile we were going at it but overall I’m really satisfied! Suc)( an amazing release!”

CC: And t)(en s)(e asked if I was gonna go over again and I said

CC: “No t)(anks! Last nig)(t took a lot out of us so we’re gonna try doing it online for a w)(ile!”

CC: S)(e offered to )(ook me up wit)( a webcam and I said t)(at I t)(oug)(t we could just do it over text.

CA: stop please i’m beggin you

CA: my stomach fuckin hurts

CC: ---ERIDAN AMPORA AR---E YOU LAUG)(ING AT M---E?!

CA: yes

CA: vvery vvery hard

CC: 3>8O

CC: O)( my god I need to text Jade before she spreads t)(is around

CA: BY---E!

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

 

 

* * *

 

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: So

CC: I )(ave anot)(er question

CA: no i didn’t sleep wwith cleopatra

CA: or marc antony for that matter

CA: i coulda if i played my cards right

CA: but he wwas a butter face so

CC: )(aw )(aw!

CC: )(ilarious.

CC: No, I need to know w)(y you )(ate the Britis)( so muc)(.

CC: Since you keep carping on about t)(em every minute of every day.

CA:…howw much time you got

CC: O)( dear do I need to take notes?

CA: you seriously been takin wworld history and you gotta ask wwhy i got beef wwith the beefeaters?

CC: Indulge me.

CA: uh okay

CA: number one; they’re fuckin evverywwhere

CA: or they wwere anywway

CA: couldn’t go ten feet wwithout hittin a buck-toothed asshole flyin the union jack drinkin tea and powderin his wig

CA: “oh ello guv im an emissary of his majesty’s government, gods save him, and this is our newest colony named after king george’s left bollock!”

CC: Pfft o)( my god!

CA: i came back to ireland after popping off for a couple decades and surprise surprise the up jumped anglo-saxon bulgesuckers had set up shop like they alwways owwned the fuckin place.

CA: so i thought okay let’s just pop across the atlantic for a feww decades until they cool it.

CA: guess fuckin what

CA: buncha belt-headed british idiots settin up shop, killin turkeys and friendly tribes left right and center

CA: i didn’t evven stop the ship

CA: i just turned south and made for the fuckin caribbean

CC: )(e)(e an I get you to fill in for my )(istory professor one of these days?

CC: Drunk Irish )(istory 101.

CA: oh im not evven fuckin drunk

CA: if i was fuckin drunk id be carpin your ear off about wwhy queen vicky almost singlehandedly ruined the fuckin universe wwe wworked so hard to create

CA: little miss sun-nevver-sets thought she was the shit

CA: i digress

CA: wwhere wwas i

CC: Caribbean?

CA: oh fuck that’s right

CA: guess who showws up

CC: The fuckin’ Englis)(?

CA: fuckin

CA: english

CA: course the spanish and the french were all carvin up the place too but

CA: couldn’t evven take a tropical fuckin vvacation wwithout king chuck’s lobsters crawwlin all over the beaches

CC: )(e )(ad trained lobster soldiers???

CC: T)(at’s ADORABL---E 38D

CA: god i wish

CA: at least then i coulda done somethin with them after i killed em

CA: other than fleecin them for coins

CC: …you

CC: You didn’t just go around krilling people back then, did you?

CA: only the ones wwho pointed guns at me

CA: and shot my crew

CA: and tried to steal my fuckin sugar

CA: lost a lot of good deckhands to limey privvateers

CC: A)(a)(! So it’s more personal than you let on!

CA: course it is

CA: were england a comely troll lass i wwould havve hate-tapped the shit out of her

CC: Eridan<3<England OTP

CA: small wonder i joined forces with sharky just to try and discourage those limey cunts from stickin’ around

CC: S)(arky?

CC: Did you train a giant s)(ark lusus to fight the Britis)( trained lobsters?

CC: You )(AV---E to tell me if you did!

CA: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helena_Nethys>

CC: Oo)(!

CC: Wow…a blueblooded lady pirate.

CC: …you got a type, don’tc)(a?

CA: purely coincidental

CA: i assure you

CC: SUUUUUUUUR---E

CA: she wwas runnin sugar out of nassau and was lookin for muscle to help run a blockade

CA: i had time to kill and cannonballs in my hull that i wwould havve rather seen flyin through the hulls of british ships

CA: together we fought crime

CC: You W---ER---E CRIM---E by the sound of this article!

CA: from the british perspective yes

CA: i prefer to think of us a puckish rogues

CC: Sixty six ships sunk in six years?

CC: Royal treasure fleet plundered?!

CC: Over t)(irteen t)(ousand pounds of cargo stolen, destroyed, or…freed?

CC: W)(at kind of cargo needs to be

CC: O)( I see.

CC: I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact t)(at violetbloods )(ave consistently been on the s)(ort end of the slavery stick.

CA: wwell

CA: wwhen you’re the only species on the planet with fins and gills it kinda makes you stick out somethin fierce

CA: and in landlocked places it’s pretty easy to keep seadwwellers from slippin awway so easily

CA: the brits and their bastard offspring needed seadwwellers to wwork on their bloody battleships

CC: I guess t)(at makes sense.

CC: Still find it funny t)(oug)(.

CC: Well not “)(a)(a” funny, of course I guess I’m just surprised things flipped so completely.

CA: wwhat you thought it wwouldn’t happen here?

CC: I’m PR---ETTY SUR---E t)(at was one of t)(e t)(ings we expressly told them NOT to do in the beginning!

CA: see wwhat i mean wwhen i say people wwouldn’t do wwhat you wwould say evven if you told em?

CA: people are only religious wwhen it’s convvenient to be and are wwillin to bend ovver backwwards to interpret that in a wway that justifies their continual supremacy

CA: you’ll notice that the wwitch of life isn’t wwidely talked about in anglican and catholic faiths and that’s pretty much because you outlawwed the vvery profitable institution of slavvery

CC: UG)( )(ow can you just IGNOR---E a )(uge fundamental part about your religion??

CA: i don’t knoww i wwas nevver religious myself

CC: You know you’re a god, rig)(t?

CA: yeah and look at all the good that’s done for me

CA: my general disdain for the church made me quite a feww friends on the other hand

CC: Like Ms. Sharktooth?

CA: yep

CA: had a good thing goin for a couple of years

CA: might not’vve been the sunniest person in history but no one has evver done as much good by doing so much bad

CC: Apparently!

CA: got herself quite a little creww followwers

CA: crowwn had to send half the fuckin armada to sink her fleet

CC: I noticed!

CC: Apparently enough to u)(

CC: Draw and quarter her?

CC: W)(at does t)(at mean?

CC: O)( wait )(ere’s a link!

CC: Oh

CC: Oh…wow

CC: Is that

CC: Is that R---EALLY necessary?!

CA: nope

CA: not really

CA: not at all

CC:…wow

CC: Fuck the Britis)(

CA: fuck

CA: the

CA: british

CA: that answwer your question?

CC: And t)(en some.

CC: Wow I’m

CC: I’m sorry

CA: for wwhat?

CC: I didn’t mean to c)(afe a sore spot with you.

CA: you didn’t

CC: Still, I can’t imagine it’s fun to be reminded t)(at someone you were close to was

CC: You know.

CA: i nevver forgot

CA: sides, i wwould say i evvened the odds

CA: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Admiral_Horatio_Hornthrop/Death>

CC: “Admiral Hornthrop was found by several of his crewmates, completely disrobed and in the company of several live goats where he had apparently died of an overdose of opium.”

CC: …I don’t know w)(at to say.

CA: the wword you are lookin for is

CA: ye olde rekte

CC: T)(at may be the sweetest assassination involving drugs and goats I’ve ever )(eard of.

CC: Some)(ow.

CA: sharky woulda got a kick out of it

CA: though of just offin him with a gunshot but

CA: a) he was a prick

CA: b) the goats wwere in the room wwith him when I got there

CC: PFFT S—ERIOUSLY?

CA: seariously

CA: it wwas a gift from the gods

CA: swear vvris was lookin out for me from beyond time with that crazy lucky bullshit

CA: anywway

CA: that’s my story

CA: in summation queen and country can gag on my ridged vviolet dick until their lips look like grapes

CC: )(A)(A t)(at was almost Karkat-esque.

CA: wait hang on

CC: W)(at are you doing?

CA: ahem

CA: IN SUMMATION QUEEN AND COUNTRY CAN GAG ON MY RIGED VIOLET BULGE UNTIL THEIR LIPS LOOK LIKE GRAPES PROVIDED THEIR GONKY BUCKTOOTH TEETH DON’T GET IN THE WAY AND ACCIDENTALLY RIP IT OFF.

CC: NO!

CA: BUT EVEN THEN I WOULD GET SOME SMALL COLD COMFORT IN THE FACT THAT THEY WOULD BE COLLECTIVELY CHOKING TO DEATH ON MY MOST SENSITIVE ORGAN.

CC: STOP!

CA: SO THAT EVEN LITERALLY DISMEMBERED I WOULD STILL HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE THE BRITISH NATION AND PEOPLE CHOKE ON THE FATTEST PART OF MY AUBERGINE SHILLELAGH.

CC: YOU MAD---E M---E SPRAY MY SCR---E---EN WIT)( SPRIT---E YOU J---ERK!

CA: wait wait wait

CA: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

CA: okay i’m done

CC: My roommate is looking at me like I’m some kind of mad woman, t)(anks a lot!

CC: Now I )(ave to explain w)(y I’m laug)(ing w)(ile )(ave a pirate Wikipedia article open.

CA: showw her the goat article

CA: that’ll explain it

CC: Good idea!

CA: wwouldn’t use this on the essay you’re wwritin just so you know

CC: W)(at I can’t tell my professor that my pre)(istoric pirate pen pal punked a puffed-up privateer post)(umously?

CA: you knoww if you’re lookin for an easy A you might wwant to sign up for a poetry class

CA: that wwas some pretty sick fire not gonna lie

CC: 38)

CA: remember me wwhen you get a record deal

CC: No promises 38P

CC: Oops, gotta go!

CC: We’re talking wit)( some people about renting a )(ouse next year!

CA: if you need a character wwitness you knoww wwhere to find me

CC: )(a)(a some)(ow I don’t think a pirate counts as a c)(aracter witness.

CA: oh wwell that’s just racist

CC: Really?

CA: or discriminatory

CA: pirates are people too, fef

CA: smelly salty slightly murderous people but people all the same

CC: Gos)( sorry for disrespecting your SACR---ED culture!

CA: just go before you hurt my feelins

CC: Alrig)(t!

CC: Yo)(o)(o me )(earty!

CC: Or )(owever pirates say goodbye!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CA: howw dare you

 

* * *

 

cuttlefishCuller [CC] started trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CC: GU---ESS W)(O )(AS A B---EAC)( )(OUS---E T)(IS SUMM---ER!

CA: is it me

CA: please say it’s me

CC: AND GU—ESS W)(O’S T)(ROWING A B---EAC)( PARTY IN TWO W---E---EKS!

CA: again i’m gonna have to go with me

CA: it’s me right?

CC: AND GU---ESS W)(O’S COMING TO SAID B---EAC)( PARTY IN TWO W---E---EKS!

CA: is it me

CC: It’s you!

CA: it’s me

CC: O)( good, glad you agreed so easily!

CA: wwait wwhat

CC: I was worried I was going to )(ave to do t)(is W)(OL---E routine to get you to come but )(ey t)(anks for saving me t)(e trouble!

CC: Okay so party starts at five and if you could just bring some beer or w)(atever t)(at’d be great!

CA: wwait can wwe back up?

CC: No I kinda want to stay at t)(e part w)(ere you’re coming to my party.

CC: So instead of backing up let’s just…not.

CC: Not is a good plan!

CA: fef are you seriously invvitin me to a party halfwway around the wworld?

CC: No I’m kidding!

CC: You just got punked sucker!

CC: )(a)(a)(a)(a)(a)a of course I’m serious.

CC: W)(y wouldn’t I be?

CA: uh wwell

CA: for starters

CA: there’s the wwhole halfwway around the wworld

CA: thing

CA: that i brought up in paragraph nineteen of this discussion

CC: So?

CC: Take a plane!

CA: wwhat you think i can just drop evverythin and take a plane across the planet wwhenevver i feel like it?

CC: I don’t know you seem to )(ave no problem zipping across t)(e world w)(en Nepeta asks!

CA: wwait wwhat?

CC: SAV---E IT!

CA: i don’t zip across the wworld for

CC: I know all about your “advanced friends)(ip” as s)(e calls it!

CA: goddamnit she told you, didn’t she?

CC: Du)(!

CC: Like six mont)(s ago.

CC: Eridan w)(en you s)(are a body wit)( someone t)(ere are no secrets between you anymore.

CA: god i hope that’s not true

CA: or else i feel serious pity for sol right noww

CC: Rig)(t because your secrets are the DARK---EST and most MYST---ERIOUS!

CA: of course

CA: okay wwhere wwere wwe?

CC: You were agreeing to bring shrimp for t)(e barbecue

CA: fef

CC: T)(at’s w)(at I remember!

CC: Are you saying you don’t want to come or somet)(ing?

CA: wwell

CA: no i’m not sayin that

CC: So you’re just being needlessly contrary and overcomplicating a party invitation t)(en?

CC: Gotc)(a.

CA: it’s just the last time wwe wwere at a party together things didn’t end so wwell

CC: So we can N---EV---ER )(ave parties toget)(er ---EV---ER again because of six mont)(s ago?

CA: wwell you’re not just invvitin me are you?

CC: No offense but t)(at would be the LAM---EST excuse for a beac)( party if it was just me and you t)(ere.

CA: you knoww wwhat i mean

CC: It’s just going to be my friends from sc)(ool!

CC: And Nepeta. And Aradia I t)(ink.

CA: and sol too then?

CC: )(e’s got an interview t)(e next day so )(e said )(e couldn’t come!

CC: For t)(at matter Tavros can’t join us eit)(er so you don’t )(ave to worry about t)(at.

CC: It’s not gonna be a )(uge big deal; just some barbecue and bonfire.

CC: And I want all my friends to celebrate t)(e fact t)(at I just passed my fres)(man year of college despite )(aving N---EV---ER gone to sc)(ool a day in my life before!

CA: that is pretty impressivve

CC: So you’re coming.

CA: …yeah i guess i am.

CC: GR---EAT!

CC: Okay since you’re t)(e “older” friend you )(ave to supply us wit)( t)(e booze

CA: you knoww i joked about bein the one to throww the party but at this rate i pretty much am doin all this myself

CA: you wwant me to get filet beef wwhile i’m at it?

CC: Oo)( good idea!

CC: Do kind of a surf and turf t)(ing!

CA: i wwas kidding

CC: I’m not!

CA: ugh fine

CC: Only YOU would sound so glum about being invited to a party at a SW---E---ET new )(ouse on the beac)(.

CC: We’ll finalize t)(e deets as we get closer to t)(e date.

CC: And you B---ETT---ER not flake out on me!

CC: I know w)(ere you live.

CC: 3>8)

CA: duly noted

CC: I’ll )(it you up if I t)(ink of anyt)(ing else!

CA: or alternativvely you could not do that

CA: someone once said “not is alwways a good plan”

CC: T)(at was the old me, Eridan.

CC: I’ve c)(anged since t)(en.

CC: Stop living in t)(e past!

CC: It’s all about t)(e future now!

CA: the future wwhere i’m bringin a fivve course dinner to a party you’re hostin?

CC: Yep!

CA: but

CC: Okay gotta go!

CC: Study group for world )(istory class is meeting for one last time before the finals!

CA: but fef

CC: BY---E!

cuttlefishCuller [CC] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CA: i’m not gonna have to wear shorts am i

CA: i look terrible in shorts

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully Eridan's hatred of the British is a little clearer now. 
> 
> Next time we have a beach party with absolutely no canoodling between lusty gods. None. None at all. Zero. Zilch.


	10. Intermission: Surf and Turf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit sexual content and brief, historical references to suicidal behavior. Reader discretion is advised

**> >Return to the Matter at Hand.**

You are once again Eridan Ampora, and although you _didn’t_ read the handbook CalState Monterey gave you when you started teaching, you’re fairly certain fucking one of your students on your desk during office hours is frowned upon.

If you had _thought_ that one of the perks of professorship involved using your office hours to bring lascivious new meaning to the term “hands on tutoring,” you might have tried it a few hundred years earlier, though how you got from drinking yourself to undeath in Ireland to making love in a corner office overlooking the Pacific is something of a story to tell.

In fact, let’s tell it right now.

**> >Be Eridan six months earlier.**

You are once again Eridan Ampora, sitting in a car after having an out of body experience and flirting with limited omniscience and delusions of French superheroism for about twelve months or so. It’s not quite as bad as when you suddenly find yourself being a fat, impotent data-entry supervisor from Sheboygan, Wisconsin or his Russian lover, but wouldn’t say no to being someone else right now.

**> >Be someone else.**

You are now John Egbert again (or perhaps for the first time), and you are currently spending some quality time with (one of) your girlfriends while your other girlfriend spends time with her new girlfriend who is also your girlfriend’s girlfriend.

Which would make Vriska your girlfriend’s girlfriend’s girlfriend in addition to just being your girlfriend, now that you think about it.

But as lovely as it is to watch Rose Lalonde step out of the shower, water rolling down every curve of her body as she towels her hair off, you get the strangest sensation that you’re intruding on a narrative already in progress.

And as she approaches you, crawling up onto the bed where you’re currently splayed out, water dripping on your face as she straddles your hips, you can’t keep the nagging sensation from your mind any longer.

“Someone looks pensive,” Rose says, fingertip pressing against the tip of your nose.

“Yeah…call me crazy-”

“ _Crazy_ is relative,” she says, removing the glasses from your face. “Share.”

“Well…I’m getting the strangest sensation that I should really-”

**> >-be Eridan Ampora again.**

Well, it was worth a shot.

Unlike John Egbert (who is currently spending his afternoon in the capital of Naked Wet Girlfriendtopia), your morning isn’t going quite as well. Currently you’re feeling more than a little apprehensive about getting out of the late model PT Cruiser you rented at the airport in San Francisco and walking up the floral lined path to the front door of the quaint little lilac colored house sitting some hundred yards from the Pacific Ocean. The sound of the radio and the happy chattering of partygoers on the beach wafts over the dunes as you stare out over the dashboard behind your sunglasses, trying to work up the courage to go to a goddamn party.

It shouldn’t be this hard, honestly.

You’ve marched with Cincinnatus, Salah al-Din, and Rochambeau for gods’ sake (mostly as something to do/more thinly veiled attempts at suicide). You sailed across the Atlantic on a schooner by yourself in the middle of a hurricane. You are a fuckmothering god who wields unchallenged power over the domain of Hope and yet you can’t manage to bring yourself to get out of the damn car and knock on the front door.

Well, you’re not the God of Courage for a reason.

Of course, there is still time to turn back but you’ve been saying that since you boarded the flight from Dublin. You said it when you changed planes in New York, Georgia, and Arizona. You said it when you were renting the car at the airport. You said it when you were in line at Costco paying for the small mountain of shrimp and beef you were required to bring to the party. Basically, you’ve had a hundred million chances to turn back and yet you find yourself on Feferi Peixes’ doorstep, thinking for some insane reason that _now_ is the time you’re going to chicken out.

You don’t even know what you’re scared of anyway, other than the fact that the fragile house of cards the two of you had built around historical trivia would blow over now that you were about to be face to face with her again. It was one thing to get along with someone halfway around the world in hour spurts but it was another to-

“You gonna sit here all day or are you gonna go inside?”

**> >Eridan: Try not to scream like a child.**

The sudden voice in your ear nearly jerks you out of your seat, and an all too familiar snicker from the back seat makes you aware that you weren’t as alone in your brooding as you thought you were.

“Fuckin’ hell, how long were you back there?!” You say in what you hope isn’t an overly panicky tone of voice as you angle the rearview mirror to reflect Nepeta’s toothy grin.

“I just got here,” Nepeta says, patting the bag of ice on the seat beside her. “Better question is how long have _you_ been here?”

“Couple minutes,” you lie, wincing as she vaults the front seat, using your head as a handhold as she flops down into the passenger seat.

“Forget how to work the car door or something?” She snickers, kicking her feet up on the front dash. “Or are you just being _you_?”

“I’m always me,” you say, leaning over and tugging her feet off the dashboard. “That’s always been my problem.”

“Are you _really_ having an existential crisis over a freaking barbecue right now?” Nepeta sighs, leaning back over the side of the car as she kicks her bare legs across your lap and regarding you over a pair of lime green sunglasses.

“Well you know me; if I haven’t had an existential crisis by lunch it’s not much of a day,” you say dryly, trying to move her legs off your lap as she keeps slapping your hands away with the soles of her feet.

“Come on; what’s the worst that could happen?” She asks.

“I could get stabbed,” you shrug. “That happened at the last barbecue I went to…”

“Okay, but that was the worst barbecue in the history of the universe,” Nepeta says, picking at a loose strand on her tank top that rises just above the waistband of a pair of denim cutoffs. “They’re not _all_ going to be that bad.”

“Could be worse,” you sigh as Nepeta smacks the back of your head with the sole of her foot.

“Ow!”

“How could it be worse?” Nepeta deadpans. “Unless a giant crab lusus crawls out of the sea and starts attacking us-”

“Now _that_ would be a barbecue,” you say, catching her ankle before she can smack you again.

“I’m serious!” She giggles, trying to wriggle out of your grip as she sits up in the seat across from you. “It’s just gonna be you, me, Feferi, and all of Feferi’s dumb college friends…okay they’re not dumb…except Xylethia.”

“Xy…” You glance at her over the rims of your glasses. “That’s…that’s not a real name, Nep.”

“No; no it’s not,” Nepeta sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “She’s just…well, you’ll see. If things get awkward we can always pretend to make a beer run and just clear out until she leaves.”

“I’m sure we can figure out somethin’ to pass the time,”  you say, leaning across the seat as she plants her free foot against your chest and pushes you back against the car door. “What?”

“Don’t give me that look,” She snorts.

“What look?”

“You _know_ what look,” she says, pressing the ball of her foot against your chest as she sits up a little more. “We’re already super late for this little shindig!”

“So what you’re sayin’ is that we can’t get any later?” You chuckle, lightly squeezing the top of her foot as she refuses to let up the scant amount of effort it takes for her to push you against the door. You really shouldn’t be outclassed in terms of strength by so many of your former friends but that’s what you get for not hitting the gym since the 1870's.

“In a convertible?” Nepeta snorts. “Seriously?”

“Worked pretty well in New Zealand if I recall,” you shrug.

“We didn’t have horny teenagers scampering around the car in New Zealand,” Nepeta says, wagging her finger at you with a small smirk. “Just sheep.”

“And _that_ was weird enough,” you sigh, holding your hands up in surrender as she lifts her foot off your sternum. “Knew I shoulda gone with the cruiser.”

You lean back a little as she pulls her legs under her, sliding across the front seat into your lap in a fluid, feline motion that once again pins you against the driver side door, causing the convertible to rock ever so slightly.

“I thought you said we were late,” you mutter as she slowly removes your sunglasses, folding them and placing them on the dashboard. Her left knee straddles your right hip while her other dangles off the edge of your seat on the floor. She said not to give you that _look_ but you’ve seen that _look_ enough times from her to realize she’s throwing you that _look_ right now.

“We are,” she purrs (you will never know how she just _purrs_ like that). “But I just realized you need to do something for me first.”

“Do I?” You ask as she slowly leans in, snaking her hands around your back with a less than innocent smirk on her face.

“Yeah…you need to-”

_Click._

You register the car door opening behind you a split second before she pushes you back out of the car. You fall backwards, propelled by her shove across the gravel driveway with a small grunt as Nepeta snickers down at you over the rim of the car door.

“-you need to get out of the freaking car!” Nepeta snaps, vaulting the door as you lay blinking up at the sky dumbly. “Was that so hard?”

“Was that _really_ necessary?” You groan, sitting up and brushing the dust and gravel out of your hair.

“You’ll live,” Nepeta sighs, handing you your sunglasses. “At least you didn’t get glass in your eye or anything.”

“This day is truly full of blessin’s,” you grumble, grabbing your sunglasses and hauling yourself to your feet. “I may have just been ejected from my car like a failed Bond stunt onto hot, dusty gravel, but at least there is no glass in my eyes.”

“Oh my _god_ you big baby,” Nepeta half groans, half laughs.

“And while I’m countin’ my numerous fortunes, I also don’t have polio, I’m not currently bein’ sued for fraud, and I am not currently bein’ eaten by a dragon,” you continue, popping the trunk of the car and hauling the grocery bags out of the back. “Thank you for havin’ the courtesy to remove my glasses before shovin’ me out of my own car.”

“Oh screw you,” Nepeta snorts, jabbing you in the side with one hand as she reaches over to grab her bag from the back seat.

“I thought you said we didn’t have time for that,” you sigh, slinging the bags over your shoulder as you frown at the sack Nepeta is carrying with her. “What’s that?”

“Ice, soda, some cups,” Nepeta shrugs, glancing at the bags you haul out of the trunk. “That?”

“Shrimp, tenderloin, barbecue fixin’s,” you say, hauling the bag over your back as you spot a small frown on Nepeta’s face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Nepeta says, nose scrunched up. “Only I get the feeling that Feferi got us to do the work of putting on the party for her.”

“Yeah, she’s…she’s good at that kinda thing,” you say, shouldering your bags as you start winding down the crunchy gravel path towards the front door.

**> >Eridan: Behold Casa de Feferi**

You have to admit that once Feferi attaches herself to a theme, she sticks with it. Even if she hadn’t given you the address, there was only one purple bungalow on the street with seashell style porchlights. As you crunch down the seashell lined front path, you manage to navigate your way through a trail of half-naked co-eds in various stages of drunkenness with various degrees of success.

**> >Eridan: Make a Dexterity Saving Throw**

**> >1d20=1**

Despite your epic levels of Dexterity (you pretty much hit the level cap after your first century), you are too preoccupied with the décor on Feferi’s new house to avoid the lumbering, half drunk rustblood in a t-shirt that reads “Harry Otter” staggering down your path.

“Oops,” the oaf murmurs as he collides headlong with your frame, spilling his cheap horse-piss beer down the front of your shirt. “My bad, brah.”

**> >Eridan: Smite the mor-**

Much as you would like to obliterate the ingrate that soiled your wardrobe, something tells you that obliterating Feferi’s party guests in a flash of white light wouldn’t do you any favors in her eyes. So it is with the greatest reluctance, and a tight, forced smile that you incline your head and choke out “No problem,” to the witless asshat as he passes, no doubt to procure more bland, tasteless rotgut.

“Fabulous,” you sigh, teeth grinding as you feel the warm, sudsy mess slither down your chest. “I’m gonna smell like a fuckin’ frat house bathroom for the rest of the day.”  

“Take it off then,” Nepeta says, tugging her t-shirt over her head to reveal a striped green and white bikini top. “It’s a beach party; don’t think anyone’s gonna mind if you go topless.”

“Like some kind of floozy at Mardi Gras?” You sniff, snatching Nepeta’s t-shirt up and toweling the widening dark patch on your shoulder. “This was a fourteen-hundred euro shirt…”

“You wore a shirt worth more than my monthly rent to a _beach party_ ?” Nepeta sighs, peering at you over the rim of her glasses. “Douche _bag_.”

“I’m tellin’ your moirail you said that,” you mumble, tearing the delicate, beer-soaked fabric off your shoulders and tossing it onto an overflowing trash can outside the front door. You could have _just_ as easily gone to your suitcase and picked out a spare shirt, but that would deprive you of a long overdue Ampora Pout Fiesta.

You don’t get too many opportunities to play the martyr these days, so you’re gonna have to take them where you can find them.

**> >Eridan: Be Feferi Peixes.**

You are now Feferi Peixes, and though you are not about to play the martyr, that doesn’t mean your life is all Squiddles and lollipops right now.

Planning a party for half the student body is taxing enough; the booze tab alone is enough to make your usually wavy hair straighten in horror, and your breezy new beach house is getting broken in faster than the guac runs out at the snack table. All of this would have been bad enough, but there is a particularly thorny cherry on top of the suck-sundae you’re currently trying to choke down.

“Heyyyyyyyy, can you top me off there?” Vriska asked with a toothy and slightly sloshed grin as she bumps her red party cup against your shoulder. “Pleeeeeeease?”

“The vodka is literally ten inches to your left,” Kanaya sighs, nudging it in Vriska’s direction. “If you can’t lift the bottle, then perhaps it’s time to call it quits.”

“Pshhhhhhhhaaaaaaaawwwwwwww,” Vriska drawls, tilting her cup back and slurping the last bit of liquor out of her cup. “C’mon we didn’t come all the way across the country to pour our own liquor. Feferi invited us here so-”

You really didn’t.

Words cannot express how much you _didn’t_ invite Vriska and her ex-kismesis/new matesprit (it’s complicated; you’re not sure you want to ask) to your beach party. The absolute last thing you needed was the woman who chainsawed Eridan in two crashing the party because they were “in the neighborhood” and saw your post on Facebook. Not that you blame Kanaya for what she did; god knows Eridan was in dire need of a good chainsawing at one point in his life. It’s just that you _hoped_ to throw _one_ party where baggage from the game wasn’t going to come back and bite you in the ass like an irate moray. That and the fact Vriska is currently doing her best sixteen year old Rose Lalonde impersonation means that things are just a touch on the tense side.

You need this party to be absolutely _perfect_ for a number of reasons; not the least of which is convincing your shut-in former moirail to move off his Emerald Isle perch and into the guest bedroom of your shiny new beach house.

So you may have told a teensy-tiny little lie when you told him you were moving in with some other girls from school. The truth of the matter is that being a literal goddess with inherited wealth from _two_ failed timelines means that you’re not exactly starving for dough or in need of someone to foot the electric bill. And while your new mortal friends are…nice, you have the sneaking suspicion that living with Xylenthia for any extended period of time would lead to you dumping several soggy trash bags in the ocean and fleeing to Russia under an assumed identity.

Then again, cohabitation might be exactly what the doctor ordered with regards to your relationship with Eridan.

It took you the better part of a year to get to the point where you were chatting or calling each other every day, but even if it was just sitting on the line with each other, occasionally making small talk as you sat half a world apart, it was a step in the right direction. The funny thing about steps, though, is that you need to take them in succession. Getting him away from his well-trodden paths was the first step in an eighteen-step plan designed to stitch the Hivebent crew back to some semblance of normalcy.

Well, as normal as possible without Gamzee, though given who we’re talking about, there’s a good chance that things will be even more _normal_ now than they ever were…god-powers notwithstanding.

“I can freshen that up for you,” you say, snatching Vriska’s cup away from her before she can test the limits of her alcohol tolerance. “Screwdriver, right?”

“Thaaaaaaaaanks,” Vriska says, frowning for a second as she seems to be counting something in her head. Quick as a whip, you fill the cup up with regular orange juice and slide it across the bar as Kanaya mouths ‘thank you’. “You’re a real peach, you know that?”

“I’m just the peachiest, aren’t I?” You grouse, turning around and colliding smack dab into a stranger’s chest. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t see you th-”

The purple swatch is the first thing you notice. It was the first thing you noticed missing and to see it back is strangely comforting, even if he’s dripping beer on your new hardwood floors.

“Got a towel?” Eridan says, shaking a little like a wet dog as you take him in.

He seems somehow...softer than when you saw him last. The scars on his body don’t seem to run too deeply and the bags under his eyes don’t seem so pronounced. He doesn't feel as...old as he once did. He still has the unmistakable weight of someone who has lived longer than most trees, but he doesn’t necessarily look it anymore.

That, more than anything, surprises you.

“Eyyyyyyyy look who crawled out of their wet stinky hole!” Vriska cheers a little too loudly for your taste.

“That what Lalonde says when she gets Kan back from you?” Eridan drawls, turning his attention back to you as Vriska chokes on her virgin screwdriver and Kanaya raises a single, immaculate eyebrow. “...hey.”

“Hey,” you echo almost as awkwardly, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the pair of you move to embrace with an uncertain laugh.

“You...grew your hair out again?” He says, noting the loose black braid that hangs over your right shoulder.

“Oh yeah...figured it was time for it, you know?” You nod at his hair. “You did the-”

“Yeah,” Eridan says, subconsciously twisting his sodden lock of purple in his hair. “Just...figured it was time for it, you know?”

“Yeah,” you say, rocking back and forth on your heels, completely oblivious to Nepeta standing a few feet away.

“ _Hey Nepeta, thanks for coming; it’s great to see you!,”_ Nepeta says out of the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, sorry, Nepeta, it’s-”

“Great to see you too!” Nepeta says, pushing the bag of drink fixing into your arms as she moseys over to the drink table. “You kids catch up.”

She leaves the pair of you standing in the kitchen, holding two bulging bags of groceries, staring at one another for a long moment. In spite of talking every day for more than a year, you haven’t been in the same country (let alone under one roof) since you slapped him in the face and slept in his bathtub.

And even though that was last year, it feels like a long ass time ago.

“Here let me-” You both say at the same time, reaching for each other’s bags before retreating with another nervous chuckle.

“You...want the grand tour?” You ask, foisting your  bags off on a passing girl and nodding up the stairs.

“So long as that tour involves a stop-off to change,” Eridan sighs, wringing his hair morosely. “God forbid I walk around shirtless at a beach party like some kinda scarlet woman.”

**> >Be The Scarlet Woman**

Oh come on, that was uncalled for.

You are once again the loose floozy known as Eridan Ampora, and you’re beginning to smell something fishy.

...it’s probably the shrimp Nepeta is grilling on the patio.

Still, you wonder why a house built to house four women only seems to have two bedrooms. After changing into something a little more dignified, you follow a gabby Feferi around her house, squeezing past stumbling college students as you can’t help wonder if anyone else had any input on the decorating decisions. From the shell-patterned wallpaper, to the petrified blowfish encased in glass, this seems like Feferi’s house from tip to flipper. Everything is new, but has that delightfully hipster aged look that made it look like she had picked it up on the cheap.

You only recognize it as fake because you’re the type of immortal douchebag who distresses his new furniture to make it look in line with your antiques.

“Not exactly an Irish townhouse, but not bad, right?” Feferi says, opening the expansive glass doors on the balcony that overlooks the beach below. "Water's kinda cold to swim in, but there's something to be said for being able to hit the beach whenever you feel like it." 

“Especially if you don't mind the cold,” you say, stepping through her sleeping chamber with a nod at her mattress. “You actually sleep in that or do you still fancy sleepin’ in the tub?”

“ _I_ did,” Feferi says, leaning on the railing overlooking the lively party below. “My neck and back didn’t. I was thinking of trying to commission a recupercoon but I can’t exactly fill it with anything comfy. Besides, I’m getting used to sleeping all tangled up in sheets and pillows now.”

“Least you didn’t have to spend your first century sleeping on rocks and grass,” you say, following her back into the room, through a blue tiled bathroom, and into another bedroom on the other side. “This your roomie’s room?”

“Nah, just the guest room,” Feferi says casually, waving you back into the main area. "You want a drink? I think I have to check on the ice, but-" 

"I think I can manage myself," you say, meandering towards the drink table and jostling into someone as you reach for the brandy. 

"Excuse me, I didn't see you-" Kanaya trails off as she catches sight of you, visibly stiffening. "Oh...hello Eridan." 

“…Kan,” you say after a moment of agonizing silence, not entirely sure what the protocol is for talking to someone you were involved in a double homicide with. “How are ya now?”

“Not so bad,” Kanaya replies somewhat tersely; as if she’s just as uncomfortable with the situation as you are.

“That’s…good,” you say, awkwardly casting around for a topic of small talk before coming up empty.

“Indeed,” Kanaya sighs, evidently doing the same. “Well…I’m going to pretend to hear someone calling me and excuse myself now.”

“And I’m gonna pretend I didn't feel like drinking anyway” you say, sauntering away with as much dignity as you can muster (read: not much). “Good talkin’ to ya.”

Well, it could be worse; at least she didn’t chainsaw your spine in half this time.   

You meander your way through the party, careful not to get anything spilled on you again or get roped into a discussion about meat ethics with Xylenthia, who's currently holding someone with a shrimp kebob hostage as they struggle for a way out. As funny as she was for the first few moments, the poor man looks like a bear caught in a trap of superficial, self-righteous environmentalism. Outside, Nepeta seems to be entertaining a small group of people while grilling steaks. In the distance, Kanaya returns with another drink for Vriska, spreading out in the sand under the shade while a sea of faceless strangers congregate on the sand outside.

You remember now why you don’t frequent the social scene. You’re just about to go look for a wall to prop up when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Hey.” You turn to see Feferi saddling up beside you in a pink bikini, glasses off and towel draped over her shoulder. “Let’s hit the water.”

“Thought it was cold,” You say as she drapes the towel over your shoulder, stepping out of the glass doors.

“Thought you didn’t mind the cold,” Feferi says, wading through the crowd towards the surf. With a sigh that’s more fond than exasperated you toss your drink into a nearby plant, following her down the beach towards the edge of the sea.

The water here is all but freezing, but you don’t mind the chill as you wade into the surf, following Feferi as she dips beneath the water. Ireland isn’t exactly known for its stellar beaches, so it’s been some time since you’ve been in open water like this. You have to kick hard against the incoming surf to reach her, dipping beneath the waves as she dives deeper and deeper into the dark, kelpy water.

“I like coming down here,” she says in the gurgling, bubbly tone seadwellers use to talk underwater. “When I need a minute to myself.”

You’re not surprised that Feferi picked one of the lushest marine environments in the world to build her home next to. Even as you pass through rows of kelp, you’re greeted by the sight of hundreds of different fish swimming past you as you enter what appears to be a small glen cleared out in the middle of the kelp bed.

“You got a whole house to hold personal parties in and you still need a getaway?” You say, treading water as Feferi turns to look at you, black hair billowing around her as she paddles.

“You know how it is,” she huffs, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I mean, they’re good fun but they’re…”

“Mortal?”

“Ugh, that still sounds so douchey to say,” Feferi sighs.

“They are though,” you shrug. “Mortal, temporal, doomed to die. All that fun stuff.”

“You really feel that...differently?” Feferi asks, cocking her head. There’s no accusation in her voice; just curiosity.

“It gets easier,” you say non-committedly, which seems to satisfy her. “After livin’ through a couple hundred generations, you stop getting so attached.”

A lie, but it’s easier to pretend to be a cool, aloof, alien deity than admit to catching The Feelings for milkmaids and thieves time and time again.

“This is _you_ we’re talking about too,” Feferi says, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“Point,” you shrug. “Come see me in a couple hundred years and see if you’re whistlin’ a different tune.”

"As long as it isn't the "Bluh Bluh, Mortals Suck" tune," Feferi says, sticking her tongue out. 

"Never said they sucked," you say, holding your hands up. "Just that they're only passin' through, you know? Gettin' attached is..." 

You trail off, scratching the back of your head as Feferi seems to have enough tact to steer the conversation into warmer waters. 

“What do you think of the place?” Feferi asks, tickling under the chin of a curious fish as it swims past.

“Cute little cottage you got,” you shrug. “Figured you’d have a fifteen foot aquarium full of baby sharks by now, but otherwise typical Peixes. Least I think it is.”

“Apparently there’s some kind of _law_ against keeping sharks in a private aquarium,” Feferi sighs, blowing an irritated stream of bubbles. “I’m working on getting a tank of jellyfish or stingrays though…”

“Goldfish just too pedestrian for you, are they?”

“Goldfish are for wrigglers,” Feferi pouts, crossing her arms. “Not goddesses of life and living things…”

“Oh, so callin’ mortals _mortals_ is douchey, but livin’ in a seaside villa with a tank full of lethal sea creatures like a Bond villain isn’t?”

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m going to _assume_ it was a compliment,” Feferi says, narrowing her eyes at you in a passable attempt at looking disapproving.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” you chuckle, staring up at the light streaming down through the canopy of seaweed.

“I even carved out that guest room for you if you decided to visit,” Feferi says. “For a few days or...longer.”

Like a trout who just found out that the tasty worm he found had a sharp surprise, you’re starting to feel like you may have been hooked.

“Your roomies okay with that?” You say with a small frown.

“Oh...yeah I didn’t tell you about that,” Feferi chuckles sheepishly. “Turns out the others flaked on me at the last minute; decided to go with university housing.”

“Bummer,” you muse. “Though how four women were gonna squeeze into two bedrooms with _one_ guestroom is beyond me.”

“We’re...compact?” Feferi says, sighing as you raise an unamused eyebrow. “Fiiine...I was never actually planning on living with my roommates.”

“You don’t say.”

“I bought the house to move in myself but…” She looks at you with a hopeful, puppy dog smile that worked on you so well when you were young. “...I was thinking that we could...share?”

“You know I got a house, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “That little red-bricked number you crashed in last year wasn’t an Air BNB, you know.”

“A house halfway across the world in a misty little seaside town,” Feferi huffs, crossing her arms.

“ _This_ is a misty little seaside town halfway across the world.”

“So what you’re saying is that it already feels like home?” Feferi says hopefully.

“Fef, I-”

“Oh give me _one_ good reason not to,” Feferi sighs, crossing her arms as a confused looking otter swims past. “An _actual_ reason besides _‘wweh i don’t wwant to leave me sleepy irish towwn.”_

“I _like_ my sleepy Irish tow _w_ n,” you retort. “It’s misty and freezin’ half the time and I get to wear all the turtlenecks I want without sweatin’ my gills off.”

“You’re telling me that you’re willing to subject yourself to complete Irish isolation just to maintain your aesthetic?” Feferi asks, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Wait…wait I forgot who I was talking to for a minute.”

“Look…I think we got a good thing goin’ on here,” you say diplomatically, eyeballing a shark that seems to be drifting closer and closer to you. “Don’t we?”

“Yeah, if you count Pesterchatting halfway across the world a _good_ thing,” Feferi sighs, blowing a stream of bubbles that tickle your nose. “I’d count it as _okay_ at best.”

“Well, what did you expect?” You laugh, watching Feferi bop the curious shark in the nose without taking her eyes off you. “I mean…I’m not exactly popular here in the States, am I?”

“Are you _popular_ anywhere?”

“Not since the Regency,” you mumble softly. Say what you want about the English, but they threw a mean fucking petticoat jamboree.

“You don’t have to worry about Sollux or Tavros or anyone coming after you,” Feferi says softly, adjusting the strap of her fuchsia bikini top.

“I’m not worried about them,” you half-lie.

“Then what _are_ you worried about?” Feferi asks, fixing you with a critical stare.

**> >Eridan: Say you’re worried that things might get weird living together.**

**> >Eridan: Say you’re scared of spoiling the small friendship you have already.**

**> >Eridan: Tell the truth and say that you’re scared to fucking death of hurting her again.**

**> >Eridan: Make up some corny bullshit to placate her.**

“I mean…I guess it’s just been so long since I’ve…I’ve been alone since the French Revolution and I…I don’t know…I’m used to it, I guess.”

Corny bullshit it is, even if Fef always could suss out your BS like some kind of trained bullshit basset hound. You can tell by the way the silence lingers between you that she isn’t buying it for a goddamn minute, but she seems to accept it for now.

“All the more reason to get you out of your shell now that you have the chance,” Feferi says firmly. “Unless you seriously plan on spending eternity watching history documentaries in your house in Ireland.”

“Hey, I got up to plenty of rough stuff in my day,” you say a little defensively. “Not like I’m some kinda fuckin hermit or somethin…”

“Oh please; all you need is the shell and the transformation into a hermit crab will be complete,” Feferi says, adjusting her bikini bottom with a free hand. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

A stream of bubbles float towards the surface as you let out a deep sigh, paddling up and breaching the surface of the water with one kick of your legs. Feferi is close behind, breaching with a lungful of air as she parts the damp curtains of hair in front of her face.

And for a split second, you remember what it was like to be a kid and see her rise out of the sea for the first time, black hair sticking to her shoulders as she regarded you with a curious smile.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Death and dismemberment weren’t nearly as terrifying as the idea that you might blow the second chance you have to be a decent person. It’s easy to be a good friend when you only have to do it in short bursts throughout the day over chat, but being in the same general vicinity of Feferi opens entirely new possibilities of disappointment...which, unfortunately, is a possibility in either regard.

What’s the worst that could happen?

You’ve effectively lived as a crotchety old man for longer than most men got a chance to be old. You went to class in the morning, slept through the afternoon, and watched Faulty Towers reruns until the whiskey put you to sleep at night. You haven’t cohabitated with anyone since 1789, and given how _that_ ended, you can be forgiven for being a little shaky about the whole subject...then again, it did take about ten years for you to build up the gumption to murder your last roommate, so you should at least have a decade before shit goes sour.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Maybe it’s the notion that the self imposed exile you’ve put yourself in is the closest thing you have to maintaining some semblance of dignity and normalcy. Sooner or later, Feferi will find out what you did, and you can only guess how that kerfluffle is going to go down.

So to recap, the worst that could happen involves ruining your oldest friendship, potential bodily harm, and general all-around awkwardness while the best case scenario is that Feferi is happy.

Not exactly a hard decision to make.

“…I want a dock,” you hear yourself say before you can stop yourself. 

“What?”

“It’s a big wooden thing that you can tie a boat to, but that’s not important right now,” you say, leaning on a buoy as you look out at the house. “Stair access to the beach would be nice; man’s gotta take to sea when the mood strikes.”

Feferi looks confused for a moment before slow, broadening smile stretches across her face. Maybe it’s because you didn’t make her smile all that much when you were moirails, but you forgot that little _bump-bump_ your heart does when she smiles at you. Even after a couple thousand years of not seeing her, even when your mind forgot so much about her, your body has this instinctive reaction to the sight of her that makes you feel about fourteen years old again.

“Are you saying yes?” Feferi asks, swimming up.

“Are you saying I can build a dock?”

“Are you really going to “take to the sea”?” She asks, nose scrunching up as she frowns at you.

“If the mood strikes,” you say, lopsided smile tugging at your lips as she lunges across the water, arms flinging around your neck and pulling you a couple of feet below the waves. Black hair billows around your face as she latches on, wrapping you in the tightest hug you’ve experienced in a long, long time.

“Only one gun though,” Feferi mumbles into your ear.

“Oh _come on,_ it’s America!” You scoff, heart thumping in your ears. “Owning disgusting quantities of guns and ammunition is your national hobby.”

“Not in my house,” she insists, pulling back with a toothy grin.

“Our house.”

“I’m giving you the dock; I don’t want my living room to be full up with dusty rifles,” Feferi says, surfacing with a great breath of air.

“Fair,” you say, head swimming with possibility. “You wanna head back in?”

“Vriska was challenging a freshman to a swordfight a while ago,” Feferi sighs, shaking her hair out. “Probably should make sure she hasn’t filleted anybody.”

She turns to you with another soft smile that takes six thousand years off. “...thanks, by the way.”

“Yeah, well...figure it was time to head to sunnier shores anyway,” you say with all the faux casual air you can muster. “Neighbors are gettin’ a might suspicious too. Tried passing myself off as the grandson of the fella who “died” and “left me the house”, but Mrs. McCaully is a wily old bitch.”

“You think she knows?” Feferi asks.

“I think she thinks I’m a vampire,” you say, swimming to shore. “And I’ve _seen_ the kinda vampire books she reads; let’s just say I’m not interested in stickin’ around to find out what the libido of an old Irish woman who reads supernatural porn is like.”

She laughs, pulling ahead of you as you beat your way towards the sand.

**> >Be Feferi Peixes some time later. **

The party went as all parties do, only better than the ones you remember throwing in the past.

There was still the sleepy lull in activity as the alcohol took hold, and by the time the sun set, there were only a handful of people mingling around the patio. The weight lifted off your chest, you find yourself tolerating Xylenthia’s self-righteous anti-meat rants and settling into an easy chat with your friends. Eridan and Kanaya avoided one another like the plague, but you suppose that’s a small price to pay for the current peace you feel and the optimism about your future friendships.

Aside from the impromptu duel Vriska challenged Eridan to, the night progressed smoothly...until a sharp _slap_ woke you from your three-margarita nap.

**> >Feferi: Jerk awake. **

Sitting up with a startled snore, you glance around the living room for the source of the noise. Aside from Xylenthia and a few of her friends passed out in a sloppy pile on the couch, you are completely alone in the living room. Kanaya dragged Vriska off some time before the party ended, and even Eridan and Nepeta seem to be nowhere in sight. The only sounds you can make out are hushed whispers coming from the direction of the bedrooms down the hall.

With a small groan you sit up, fixing your swimsuit as you creep down the hall. You had implemented a strict no-nookie policy at your parties, and if you find out that someone is using the guest room as their own personal shag pad, you’re going to flip them out of the window.

Creeping forward, you notice the door to the guest room ajar, complete with the sounds of hushed whispering and creaking bedsprings. You lean in, ready to catch the college students making a mess of your new comforter…

Only find out exactly why Nepeta and Eridan had slipped away while you were sleeping.

Living at the bottom of the ocean means that your eyesight is sharper than most trolls, especially at night. So even in the dim light streaming in through the glass door, you can quite clearly see the scene before you. Thoughts of a fight are quickly dashed by the sight of Eridan and Nepeta fucking on your guest bed.

Wet bikini bottoms and trunks are tossed carelessly on the floor; a fact that might have irked you were you not transfixed by the pair on the bed. Eridan’s arms stretched out behind him on the comforter, supporting his body as his long legs served as a perfect throne for Nepeta to sit on. Perched in his lap, her lithe, toned form is stretched out for your appraisal as her hands balance on his spread knees. Her hips rock in irregular patterns, sometimes moving up and down and sometimes just shifting back and forth as she seems to be toying with him more than anything else.

“Ah… _fuck,_ Nep,” Eridan rasps in a tone that has no business making your pounding heart skip a beat. “Y-You gonna fuckin tease me all night?”

“Maybe,” Nepeta purrs with a small chuckle, nails trailing down his bare chest as he lets out a small gasp in surprise. In the dim light, you can see three violet trails appear on his skin, but as soon as her nails pass, the scratches seem to heal themselves of their own accord.  She leans forward, and you can see inch after inch of slick, wet bulge slip out of her with apparently no end in sight. Ashamed as you will be when you think about this tomorrow (spoiler alert; breakfast with these two is gonna be mad awkward), you silently try and count to see just how much of Eridan Nepeta was taking in her.

You were never the kind of person to put stock in hemocastist rumors, but it appears that Eridan’s violent streak isn’t the only highblood stereotype he lives up to.

“Come on,” Eridan whines, hands sliding up Nepeta’s legs and gripping the side of her hips. “I’m goin’ from purple to blue down here.”

“And I’m gonna spend three and a half months freezing my butt off shooting snow leopards in Siberia,” Nepeta says, grabbing his hands and pushing him back onto the bed. “So button up and let me enjoy this.”

“You’re not the only one goin’ celibate til September,” Eridan says, arching his hips up to try and get more of himself in her. “Since I don’t fancy goin’ to Asia for a bloody booty call.”

“You’re gonna be surrounded by hot, perpetually stressed out twenty-year olds,” Nepeta snorts, slowly leaning back and impaling herself again with a faint gasp. “I don’t think you’re gonna have too much trouble finding someone to replace me.”

“Don’t think Fef would be too happy about me beddin’ my TA,” Eridan sighs, hands gripping the back of her thighs. “And I wouldn’t say you’re easy to replace.”

Nepeta rolls her eyes, leaning down and stealing a kiss that turns into a nip as Eridan grabs her waist, flipping her over and pinning her against the comforter in a move that seems to leave you both a little breathless. You watch her tail swish playfully as he takes hold of her legs, parting them and giving you a perfect view of Eridan hilting himself inside her. Her toes curl, fingers bunching in the sheets as a mewling whine bubbles up from her throat.

“Shh,” he says, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “You’ll wake the sloppy co-eds in the next room.”

“That slap on my butt should have drawn someone’s attention by now,” Nepeta chuckles, hips arching against Eridans’.

“Couldn’t resist,” Eridan says, thumbs pressing against the inside of her thighs as he started to move again.

“Not— _mmngh—_ complaining,” Nepeta sighs, gripping his forearms as his pace slowly picks up. You wonder if they’re too involved in each other to notice if you left, and wonder if you’re even capable of getting upstairs with your legs trembling like they are. You have done all you can to avoid thinking about the pulsing ache between your legs, but the longer you watch them, the harder it is to look away. The more your eyes rake over Eridan’s bare chest, arms, and slick, throbbing bulge, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to slip your hands down the front of your bikini bottom and relieve the pressure. With every thrust, you are reminded of just how long it’s been since you’ve been touched, kissed, _fucked_ like Eridan is currently fucking Nepeta.

Your breathing has never hitched in your throat as your partner squeezed, stroked, and sucked every sensitive spot they could lay their hands on. Your legs have never involuntarily squeezed someone’s hips as they buried themselves inside you again, and again, and again, legs and ass tensing with every thrust until-

Nepeta’s nails dig into his back, teeth sinking into Eridan’s shoulder to stifle the shuddering cries coming out of her mouth. You can faintly hear Eridan choking out a gasp, shuddering for a brief, eternal moment, before falling forward, collapsing in a wet, shaky puddle on top of Nepeta. You watch him roll off, shuffling up on to the bed as his dripping bulge lays flat against his stomach, twitching as Nepeta stretches lazily, leaning in and murmuring something that you can’t quite make out as you back away, slowly moving across the hardwood floor until you’re away from the room. You try not to bolt upstairs, tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possible until you’re sealed safely in the sanctity of your own room.

It’s quiet here. So quiet that you can almost forget the breathless, ragged gasp that slipped through Eridan’s lips as he clenched at the bedspread. You can almost forget the sight of the two of them, naked, panting, and…beautiful in a way you had never thought of them before.

**> >Feferi: Do not fantasize about your friends. **

Good idea. Think of something else; anything else. Do not think of Eridan panting as you ride him. Do not think of grabbing him by his shoulders and pounding him into the mattress. Do not imagine getting picked up, pressed against the wall and fucked until your legs are wobbly. Do not imagine his mouth, teeth, tongue on your most sensitive parts.

Above all, do not imagine that low, raspy voice of his moaning your name as his hands grip your hips, his teeth grinding together to keep himself from crying out as he-

**> >Oops. **

Well, so much for not doing that.

Through the hazy afterglow and the sound of your bloodpumper pounding in your ears, you register a tiny gleam of guilt that spoils an otherwise lovely orgasm. Laid back on your bed and staring up at the ceiling, you wonder if you haven’t made misstep somewhere along the road. See, in spite of most people’s perception of you as a naive Pollyanna, you’re not an idiot. You knew that living with Eridan might bring with it its own share of problems.

You just didn’t think _this_ would be one of them...but it shouldn’t be too hard to manage, right?

**> >Be Feferi six months in the future. **

You are once again Feferi Peixes, and although you _didn’t_ read the handbook CalState Monterey gave you when you started studying there, you’re fairly certain that fucking one of your assistant professors on his desk during office hours is frowned upon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO IT'S BEEN A WHILE HUH?
> 
> So in the time since I've updated this story, I've had two girlfriends, two jobs, and two different houses. I've also written ENTIRELY too much smut for other fandoms, but I wanted to come back and wrap this up now that I have a better idea where this story is going. I was in a depressed state of mind when I started this fic, but I'm in a better place now so I kinda want to take this in a more positive direction. The theme going forward is gonna be recovery and I think it's gonna be a better fic overall compared to the original direction it was going in. 
> 
> Forgive me if this chapter feels a bit rushed but I need these two on the same continent so we can finally get to the meat of this story. It was also written off and on over the course of a year so the quality may be a bit sporadic. Still, I'm on the right track and I thank you all for your patience!
> 
> Next time; we got cohabitation, character interaction, and the tentacled screams of the Outer Ring!

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Anything written in this fic supercedes anything written in Human Quadrants.


End file.
